Aftershocks
by OpalandGold
Summary: Morgana saves Uther after he is mortally wounded on Arthur's birthday. What causes her change of heart and where will it lead her, especially with the return of Tristan de Bois. Eventual Mergana, with a focus on her relationships with Arthur, Uther, and Gwen. Picks up at Season 4 episode 3 (The Wicked Day).
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello! This is my very first fanfiction, I hope you enjoy! I'm kinda disappointed that Morgana's 100% evil at this point. I hope to bring back a little bit of the old Morgana but keep her going strong on the fight for magic to be restored. **

**Disclaimer: Merlin does not belong to me, if it did, Morgana would be less evil**

Merlin was nervous. The outcome of tonight would affect so many things and he was _so_ close to ensuring that magic would once again return to Albion. He had practiced the spell for hours before, making sure the incantation would work properly.

He glanced over at Arthur, wishing he could support his friend as his true self, and praying that Arthur would soon be relieved after Uther had been healed.

_This will work. This is my destiny, h_e reaffirmed himself, bundling his herbs and starting towards the dying king.

Before Merlin could take another step a voice rang out "_ætstandan onhreran_." With that Merlin and Arhtur felt their joints freeze and found themselves immobile and fixed to the spot they were standing, facing the last person they ever expected to see on the grounds of the Camelot Castle.

"Morgana," Arthur was the first to address his former friend "What are you doing here? GUARDS"

"Please Arthur," smirked Morgana, using the same haughty tone she used to address him the way she did when she teased him growing up, "You did a _magnificent_ job in making sure no one would hear you from this room. I see that you have indeed found yourself a sorcerer," Morgana arched an eyebrow in Merlin's direction, "What would Uther have to say about this?"

She turned then, looking Merlin straight in the eyes. "Emrys," her eyes widened in shock before hardening her gaze. She advanced towards him, then stopped, turning her head in Uther's direction, "Another time."

Morgana knew she shouldn't be here. Shouldn't be risking being caught by the guards, shouldn't be undoing the magic she had woven around Uther. But she could feel his pain, feel the wound slowly taking him away from this world, feel the weight of her enchanted pendant and the malignant magic radiating from it. She walked to his bedside, _What a wretched looking man. You are much changed, Uther Pendragon, father, than you were the last time I saw you. _And indeed Uther had changed, aged and crooked, not a man that would one would think of as the King of Camelot, but a fragile shadow of what once was._ It's a shame Uther, that you did not change in any way that matters. You are still the man who lied to me, the man who neither acknowledged me as his daughter nor acknowledged my magic as something to be embraced._

She took a step towards Uther. "Get away from him," bellowed Arthur. "I don't know what you're doing here Morgana, but he's our father. Don't you dare do anything to him." Arthur stared at her with his cold blue eyes, and Morgana felt a ping of guilt, of hurt, from the look of hatred he gave her.

She turned to Arthur, putting on her trademark sneer, "Always so ready to leap into action Arthur, why don't you just enjoy being stuck in place", and with a flick of her wrist Arthur felt his muscles renew in stiffness. "You know Arthur, I have missed you. Missed besting you in swordplay, archery, horseback riding…" she taunted, but her expression softened then, and when she looked at Arthur he swore he saw the old Morgana again. The Morgana that was scared but brave, the Morgana that always tried to stand up for the weak, even if it incurred the wrath of Uther. "Watch me do something better than you again."

Morgana leaned down and stroked Uther's hair with one hand, reaching for the necklace with the other. "Remember who saved you father," she whispered in his ear, before ripping the necklace off.

"Don't do this Morgana. Please. Look at me Morgana. Please I beg of you, don't kill our father."

Morgana looked up at Arthur, the boy she grew up with. It hurt that he was begging her, that he thought of her as a killer. _I suppose that's the way things are now. _And yet she still felt as if those words were constricting her airway, and she breathlessly murmured "If it matters at all Arthur, I'm sorry." She looked him dead in the eye. "I'm sorry I betrayed you and things happened the way they did—"

"Then change things Morgana. Please, take my life instead, let Dragoon heal him and—"

"I'm not interested in taking your life," Morgana's voice raised in anger, "I'm not interested in taking anyone's life. Don't patronize me Arthur, you should know better by now. "

She reached underneath her cloak and took out a small vile, emptied the contents over Uther's wound and uttered "Butan þæt cwalu. Hrðe þon aidlian. Hrðe þon eðian. Bot ond tile."

And to the shock of Merlin, Arthur, and even Morgana herself, Uther's eyes opened, and with a gasp of breath he returned to life.

**A/N: I hope you guys liked this. I'm not sure where I'm going with it exactly, but leave me some reviews with your thoughts/opinions! Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello again! First off, thanks to everyone who read this story, and for those who are following it. Special special thanks to those who have favorited this!**

**And a special shout out to you guys that reviewed my first chapter! (IndiaMoore, Dawn Ruthless, Whitepurity, Rmargison3, theladyofice, and Olive)**

**How good was this week's episode! I'm so proud of Arthur, and Merlin got his moment to shine. The quality of the show has really kicked up a notch this season! Anthony Head is such a good Uther too, though it's sad that even in death he's such a hateful person.**

**Anyways, onto this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Merlin is the property of the BBC... and whoever came up with the original legend!**

It was too much. Seeing Arthur and Uther— _her family_. That's right, no matter what they were still family…weren't they? And Merlin, how she wished she could have a friend like Merlin by her side right now. He'd probably have something awkwardly comforting to say.

_Oh that's right, we're no longer friends. He poisoned me. _

Morgana sighed and sat on her rickety bed. Truth be told, she didn't think it would be so hard, didn't think her _emotions _would still be so strong.

She wished Morgause were here. _I've failed you again sister. Would you hate me? Have I betrayed you? I've done my best, done all you've asked, and still my plans continue to be thwarted. I'm just so tired sister, and I feel so alone. _

Morgana rubbed the healing bracelet, missing her sister more by the minute and feeling guiltier that she had saved Uther. _Is it wrong that I still love them? It's like the past is repeating itself again. I considered killing Uther once, long ago, before we even met, but I couldn't go through with it then and it seems like I still can't now. _

Morgana rubbed her forehead in frustration. Things were easier when Morgause was here; she was the one with passion, the one who always knew what to do, who always had a plan that she would follow through on. And maybe that was the problem, that all Morgana had wanted to do was make Morgause happy because she was the person Morgana could trust. It was too much for Morgana. How she wished she could go back to the days of learning magic with Morgause and realizing all the amazing things she was capable of, before it became about revenge.

And just when she thought her day couldn't get worse, Morgana heard her door open with a bang and moved from her bed to find a very angry Agravaine.

"How is he alive?" Argravaine looked livid.

"I think," Morgana paused and looked him dead in the eye, "that this arrangement will no longer work. Consider this our goodbye."

"Don't avoid the question. What are you saying Morgana? Have you forgotten what Uther has done? He's done nothing but lie to you your entire life and persecuted your kind."

_As if she could possibly forget._

"That is all true…and this doesn't mean I forgive him, and it doesn't mean I don't hate him. Do I think he needs to pay for his actions? Yes, but seeking revenge this way isn't the right thing to do."

"Think about what you're saying Morgana. This is what you always wanted, what Morgause wanted. Have you forgotten her sacrifice, all she has done for you and –-?"

"Don't lecture me Agravaine," Morgana raised her voice at this and Agravaine was taken aback by the ferociousness. "Your arrangement was with her, I have no obligation to you. She was my sister— I loved her. She was the family I needed when I didn't know what to do about my powers. I owed her a great debt for all she's done for me. But look where it's gotten her. I won't be consumed by that same hate."

"Then what will you do Morgana?" sneered Agravaine, unwilling to accept Morgana's decision, "You are no longer welcome in Camelot, or in the lands of its allies. You will always be persecuted and hunted and alone, or will you turn to the desiccated lands of Cenred? If revenge isn't what you're seeking, than what _do _you want?"

"I don't know. I want magic to be restored, the Old Religion acknowledged. I just don't know how to make that happen. I'm leaving this place for the isle of the Catha. I suggest you drop your plans of revenge as well Agravaine. I'm sure Ygraine didn't want this for you."

"Don't speak of my sister as if you know what she wants," hissed Agravaine, "Perhaps you are still weak willed from your time as Uther's obedient ward, but I will see to it that the Pendragons pay for their sins, with or without you help."

"So be it Agravaine. You take everything, the gold, the talismans. I have no need to hire mercenaries or dabble in the dark arts anymore. But one last thing Agravaine, for I have seen your future if you continue down this path. You will surely meet your demise at the hands of the sorcerer Emrys so for your sake I hope you will reconsider."

* * *

"Are you _sure _there's nothing bothering you? Nothing at all?" Merlin asked Arthur. "Not a burr in your saddle or ants in your pants?" he prodded.

Merlin had been trying for the past few days to get Arthur to tell him about his run-in with Morgana, but to no avail. It was clear that it was all Arthur could think about and Merlin had found him on more than one occasion so deep in thought during meetings that he had "accidently" dropped plates or banged the door closed to jolt Arthur's attention back. Meanwhile, Uther had retreated back to his room, now refusing to even see Gwen, and Arthur had taken on the responsibility of bringing him his meals and helping him to bed each day.

"Ants in my pants Merlin? Really? Do I look like I'm five?"

"No, but you sure dress like you are," murmured Merlin under his breath.

"MERLIN. I heard that. Perhaps if my manservant were competent enough to provide me with two pairs of matching socks we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Merlin smiled. At least Arthur would never be too preoccupied to jibe about his "lacking" manservant skills.

"Let's go Merlin. I just have a lot on my mind. We'll talk about it when we get back, but we must leave now unless you fancy travelling through the Valley of the Fallen Kings in the dark."

* * *

Merlin awoke in a cave. _Of course nothing ever good comes from travelling through the Valley of the Fallen Kings. _They had been attacked by mercenaries in the Valley and Merlin had separated himself from Arthur with a landslide of rocks to save him from the onslaught of mercenaries. He had passed out from loss of blood shortly after that.

_How did I wind up in this cave? _Groaning, he propped himself up and hobbled to the entrance of the cave. When he tried to take a step out, he found himself propelled backwards by an invisible barrier, hitting his head on a rock in the cave and passing out for the second time.

Hours later, when Merlin woke, he found himself sitting in the dark, but the pain in his head was gone and his wound was completely healed. He rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust to the lack of light.

"Leohtbora" came a voice, and the cave was suddenly illuminated. Merlin covered his eyes, unaccustomed to all the new changes in his environment. When he opened then, he found himself staring in the eyes of one Morgana Pendragon.

"Hello Merlin," smirked Morgana, "You look troubled."

**A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed! Next chapter you'll discover a little more of Morgana's reasons behind saving Uther, though she's still mad at Merlin for trying to kill her... And Agravaine is going to go into full baddy mode and team up with a villain from Season One! (can you guess who?)**

**I'll try to update once a week if not more! At some point I'll be deviating away from the show's plot line, but there are some episodes I definitely want to cover.**

**Enough of me talking! Thanks for reading and reviews are love :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello again! I finally have a better idea of where I want to take this story! This chapter is much longer than the first two so I hope you guys enjoy! Agravaine got a little more screen time than I originally planned… but I feel like he was such a meek and underdeveloped villain in the show so I'm going to try to make him a villain worth fighting against.**

**Thanks to all my new followers and those that fav'd this story. And thanks to my reviewers: Groulien (I considered Nimueh but too many plot holes I didn't think I could cover), SunnySmile2413 (aww, thank you! I'm glad you like it!), amberW (thanks :D), Jedimasterawesome (Thank you!), LadyDunla (thank you!), IndiaMoore (Thanks! She's not happy with him, but I think I'm saving their big "fight" for when she finds out about his magic), and Olive (Soon maybe! There's three scenes I'm considering would be good for the big reveal). **

**Disclaimer: If I could buy stock in BBC I would happily own 1/10000 of Merlin, but until then, I do not own anything. :(**

"Morgana." Merlin's voice came out hoarsely, and he swallowed hard. What was one supposed to say in this sort of situation? Merlin wasn't sure what to think and her smirk wasn't helping matters. Had she changed? She had healed Uther and seemed sincere when she spoke to Arthur, but Merlin didn't know for sure. She had healed him too, but perhaps she had more sinister intentions for him. He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of water sloshing.

"Here, have some water," Morgana held out a flask to Merlin.

He eyed the flask suspiciously. "I'm not thirsty," he lied.

"Why Merlin, if you get out of here you might not have another chance to drink for a while. Here, I _insist _you have some before I finish it."

Merlin froze then. The conversation was all too familiar for his liking and he had a sinking suspicion on where the situation was headed.

_This is what happens when you poison a sorceress Merlin, it comes back to bite you in the arse. Think Merlin, how are you going to get yourself out of this one. _

But before Merlin had a chance to make his move, Morgana uttered an incantation, "híersumnessa sy ágenlicne."

_An obedience spell. _Merlin groaned inwardly.

"Now let's try this again Merlin. Have some water."

And this time, against his will, Merlin watched in horror as his arm reached out to take Morgana's flask.

"There we go. You know it's rude to refuse a lady. Has Arthur been teaching you nothing?"

If there was ever a time where Merlin needed to master mind over matter it was now. However, he could do nothing to stop his hand from lifting the flask to his mouth. And then he felt the water. _Don't swallow Merlin, don't swallow. _His mind raced. _What is the antidote for hemlock? Or has she found an even more vicious poison for me? _

Merlin swallowed, feeling the cool liquid slide down his throat and alleviate his thirst. He reprimanded himself, his body betraying his mind and welcoming the refreshing water. Merlin closed his eyes, readying himself for the symptoms and trying to think what spell he could cast he cure himself without revealing his magic to Morgana.

* * *

_The day before—_

Maybe this was wrong, but Morgana was having _fun_.

She was headed to the isle of the Catha when she was ambushed by mercenaries. Well ambushed wasn't the right word. Those oafs were so loud she'd have to be deaf not to hear their approach. She couldn't fathom why they thought it'd be a good idea to attack her, but then again you don't pay a mercenary to think. She quickly disposed of her attackers with a lazy flick of her wrist and was headed on her way again, only to see her route blocked by a landslide of rocks.

_Perfect. An extra hour in the Valley of the Fallen Kings is just what I need. _As she contemplated whether she should use magic to move the boulders or just take another route, she saw a flash of red crumpled in a heap by the side of the path.

Naturally curious, Morgana walked ahead to investigate and to her shock, she discovered a badly wounded Merlin.

"Merlin," she hissed, surprised to see the young man in such a state and in such a place. She rolled her eyes, of course Arthur would decide to take a journey through the Valley despite its dangers. That man was nothing if not brave. She pushed thoughts of Arthur from her head, not needing to think about what happened the week before.

_Should I just leave him? _Morgana wasn't quite sure what to do with her discovery. Looking at him made her burn with anger, not the same way thinking about Uther did— it somehow ached in a deeper place.

What hurt her most about Merlin's betrayal was that she thought he was her _friend_— she _trusted_ him with her secret. She always knew what Uther was. He had always been filled with bitterness and hatred, and she had always hated that about him— but she was his ward, and for all his faults she believed he had cared about her. Merlin was different. He was inherently good, like Arthur. She had thought it was because he was _simple_, but there was much more to him. He helped her save Mordred, found the druids for her, and he kept her secret to himself.

Most importantly, he was her friend, and she didn't have very many. Sure, there were always people around her, people of the court, and they were always courteous, but they _had _to be. To them, she was just the king's ward— someone that could be used to gain favor with Uther. Besides Arthur and Gwen, who she had grown up her whole life knowing, Morgana didn't have anyone else.

Merlin was like a breath of fresh air— he kept Arthur on his toes and was always willing to accompany the prince on his dangerous trips despite his sheer lack of skill with a sword. And even though he didn't have magic, he was the only one in the castle that made her feel less alone and less frightened. Yes, she thought he was good— in every sense of the word.

Until that day.

He poisoned her. And no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn't understand why. Friends don't poison friends, no matter what. There _had _to have been another way, but he chose to betray their friendship instead. And this led her down a path of darker thinking.

_What if he was never my friend? What if he thought I was a monster when he found out I had magic and was too afraid to say anything for fear no one would believe him? The word of the servant would never be believed over mine, and he had no way of proving I had magic._

And he had said that he thought she wasn't affected by Morgause's sleeping spell because she had magic. Maybe he poisoned her because he believed that her magic was evil. These thoughts plagued her for countless nights. She thought Merlin had been genuine when he found out about her magic, and he didn't seem afraid, but she never knew for sure. _Did he poison me because I have magic or because he thought it was the only way to save Camelot? _She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to that question either.

_Oh, be brave Morgana. It's just Merlin, and he's unconscious. You can finally get your answers. It's not like he's carrying a flask of poisoned water with him this time._

And that thought sparked an idea in her head.

* * *

Agravaine was seething. He had been seething for days. It should be much easier to assassinate the Pendragons, especially with his status within Arthur's inner circle and just the sheer number of attempts made. He spurred his horse in anger, eliciting a painful whinny from the animal. He was still angry that Morgana chose to break their alliance.

_Stupid witch_.

He had convinced himself he was better off alone, no longer having to deal with her violent whims and strange powers. _I'll kill Arthur and Uther the old-fashioned way. _ But his most recent attempt had failed yet again. _You'd think that when you hire enough mercenaries to outnumber Arthur's knights 3:1 you'd be successful. _

Agravaine had paid a hefty amount of silver only to find that half the men he hired were dead, and only two knights had been slightly wounded. Arthur was again wasting his time looking for that scrawny excuse of a servant. Agravaine hoped _he_ at least died. Surely even the most incompetent mercenaries could handle a simple manservant. But that was of no matter. Agravaine needed a more powerful being to dispatch of the Pendragons, and since Morgana was gone, he'd just have to find the next best thing.

He felt his belt to make sure what he needed was still securely fastened. _At least the witch left me something useful. _

He was going to revive the dead.

* * *

Arthur was a man of action, and so there were times he hated his duties as Crown Prince of Camelot.

_I should be out there searching for Merlin, not here talking policy and trade routes._

Instead, he was sitting in council chambers surrounded by men who could care less about the fate of Merlin— except for Gaius of course. And Arthur couldn't blame them. The affairs of the land couldn't halt for one person, especially not for a serving boy. He knew his father would disapprove, would have never sent the knights of Camelot out to search for a servant, but Arthur didn't care. Merlin just _had _to be found.

He looked up from his seat to see Sir Leon enter with the search party— and the look in the knight's eyes conveyed all Arthur needed to know.

"We have scoured the forest, there is no sign of Merlin," he reported gravely.

"Scour the forests again," Arthur's voice was strained as he addressed his knights.

As his men departed to resume the search for Merlin Arthur let out a deep sigh. He wondered why he was losing everyone close to him. _I couldn't protect Morgana. I couldn't protect my father. I almost lost Gwen. And now I've lost Merlin in the Valley of the Fallen Kings._

_Some leader I am. _

He had wanted a distraction to keep him from thinking about his encounter with Morgana, but this wasn't what he had wished for. _After I get Merlin back, I'll think about her then. After I get Merlin back. _

He could only hope that Merlin was alright, that he was able to escape the mercenaries and that some kind soul had helped him.

* * *

Agravaine would never become accustomed to magic. For one, he was used to the comforts of a furnished and well-lit castle. _How this creature can possibly live here is beyond me. _He had heard the Dochraid could be found in a cave underneath a tree but he hadn't thought her dwelling could be so dank and dirty.

The hag hadn't wanted to work with him either, even when he said he was a friend of Morgause.

"In my day, the High Priestesses would have never consorted with the likes of you," was her bitter response.

_If I didn't have use for you in the future I'd cut you down now you miserable crone. _

He had gotten the information he came for though— it took some threats and a few of Morgana's abandoned talismans, but he knew what he needed to do now.

Agravaine didn't like all he learned from the Dochraid though. He had wanted to revive that knight the maid loved— Lancelot was it? He knew Arthur had feelings for the lowly serving girl, and she was nothing but a dangerous influence on his mind. No, it was better if he felt alone as possible. He had also wanted to revive Nimueh— Morgause had always talked about her with great reverence, and Agravaine was sure she was a woman with enough power to end the house of Pendragon.

But the Dochraid laughed in his face. "You think the spirit of the High Priestess Nimueh will answer your call? You nor I possess the ability to bring her power back into this world. Unless you wish to spend years accumulating enough magical essence to call her soul back to the world of the living I suggest you abandon the idea."

The old hag could not stop cackling, as if Agravaine was the court jester.

And then Agravaine had a thought. "What about my brother, Tristan" he demanded. "Could I revive him? But I don't wish him to be a creature of shade."

The Dochraid stopped her laughing at this, pausing to contemplate Agravaine's idea.

"Not a creature of shade? The price for such a request is higher than what you would wish to pay."

"Tell me," Agravaine demanded, annoyed that this vile creature thought it knew anything about him.

The Dochraid reached into her tattered robes to pull out a small red crystal attached to a silver chain. "Take this also to the Pool of Nemhain and leave two drops of your blood on the crystal and dip it in the water. Your brother will hear your call and if wishes to answer he will become a di mare rather than a shade. But you must wear the crystal at all times because it contains the life essence of both you and him. He will be nearly invincible, unharmed by any weapons or any magic, but if the crystal you wear is destroyed you will both perish."

"But he will still be him? Not a mindless slave or mangled creature?"

"Yes, di mares are malignant spirits that can be pulled back to our world by their intense hatred and thirst for vengeance. He will for the most part retain all his memories, though he may have grown more ruthless in death than he was in life," the Dorchraid warned.

"Ruthless is just what I need," smirked Agravaine, and with that he departed the cavern for Camelot Castle before his absence was missed.

The Dorchraid settled back into the recesses of the cave. _What a foolish man. With any luck both the house of Pendragon and that vile man will perish during their battle._

* * *

She wondered if the boy was ever going to open his eyes. She hadn't _actually _put any poison in that flask had she?

_Oh let him squirm, he deserves that much at least._

Merlin opened his eyes minutes after drinking from the flask. Oddly, he felt his thirst quenched and a sense of renewal rather than the onset of death. _What cruel game is she playing at? _

And then another thought, one he had always kept in the back of his mind, had hoped for, even in the worst situations, reentered his mind.

_She could still be good._

**A/N: Phew! That was long! Thanks for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed that and the jumps from different characters wasn't too confusing. Merlin and Morgana will have extended dialogue eventually! And in case you don't remember Tristan (Agravaine's brother) was the Black Knight from Season 1!**

**Drop a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks once again for all your favs, follows, and reviews! I get so much motivation from your reviews so it really means a lot to me :)**

**I can't believe it's been a whole week since the last update, but hopefully the length of this chapter will make up for it! **

**Thanks to:**

**IndiaMoore, Mike (I really considered Morgause...reviving her probably would have been smarter on his part...but I figured Agravaine would prefer to see his brother!), AmberW, SunnySmile2413, Jedimasterawesome (hehe, glad you appreciated that!), LadyDunla (Thanks! He seemed way too meek in the series but hopefully I can keep him relatively in character), Sacred3, Olive (Haha, definitely! I used to ship ArMor once upon a time but now I'll just settle for sibling love), Kianix, Black Alnair (Thanks! They'll chat more this chapter :) And I'm glad you're cool with Agravaine stealing some screen time...I figured I needed to write him some scenes for his storyline to make sense), and Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714. You guys are the BEST!**

**This chapter was tough- as much as I want Morgana and Merlin to be on the same page I feel like so much has happened that they can't really be okay that quickly. **

**Disclaimer: For my birthday I caved and asked for the boxed sets for Seasons 1 to 4 so hopefully I will be the proud owner of that! But Merlin still belongs to BBC. **

Merlin had always felt there was a distance between him and Morgana that he could never seem to bridge.

When he first laid eyes on her in his early days at the Court of Camelot he was simply enamored by her beauty, like every other man, and he attributed the distance to their differences in status.

But then he got to know her, speak with her, travel with her, and learn that there was more to her allure than just her looks. Then status was no longer an efficient enough excuse.

He felt drawn to her, perhaps because they were both born with great magic, perhaps for other reasons. When he realized she had magic he hoped they would grow closer, that she would be the first of his kind within Camelot that he could reveal his true self to.

But instead the distance only increased.

He truly wanted to tell her, but the Great Dragon and Gaius had both advised against it, and so he chose to keep his secret hidden.

He wished he could tell her now, be that last push to bring her back to where she belonged and finally close that distance— but he still wasn't sure he could trust her.

He wasn't sure how to begin the conversation with Morgana. It seemed as though she had saved him from the mercenaries, but he was still her captive in this little dark cave. He had no idea how far he was from Camelot or where he even was. All he knew was that he had to get out and back to Arthur soon.

Merlin cleared his throat and began awkwardly, "Thank you for the water Morgana— but what are you playing at? Why did you bring me here?"

"You mean why did I _save _you?" Morgana corrected.

Merlin remained silent, still unsure as to where the conversation was going.

"I have questions. And you, _friend, _will provide me with answers." Morgana looked at Merlin with a steely gaze, as if she were the defiant prisoner demanding answers and him the captor.

"Let's start with an easy one," Morgana continued, "Tell me, how is Camelot faring?"

"Camelot is thriving— Arthur is ruling the lands well and—"

"And how is Arthur?" Morgana cut him off.

_At least she still cares. _"What can I say? He's Arthur. He's survived your betrayal so there's not much else he can't face," Merlin replied, testing her reaction.

His answer seemed to annoy her. "Why are you so loyal to Arthur?"

"I don't expect you to understand Morgana, you have no sense of duty, no sense of loyalty."  
Merlin immediately regretted saying that as soon as it came out of his mouth.

Morgana raised her voice in anger. "You're wrong. Don't think I don't understand loyalty just because I've got no one left to be loyal to."

"You did though Morgana. Arthur, Gwen, Uther. They all cared about you. You were the one that betrayed their loyalty."

Morgana chose to ignore that, redirecting the conversation back to Merlin. "And what about you Merlin? Did you care about me? Did I betray your loyalty? Or did you decide you'd do Uther's kingdom a favor and dispose of a witch?"

Merlin took a deep breath. _It all comes down to that, doesn't it? _He knew she'd feel betrayed but Merlin never imagined that she cared so much about why he did it.

"Of course I cared. I HAD to do it Morgana. You know that. There was no other way."

Morgana shook her head furiously, "There's always another way Merlin. It was your _choice _to poison me_. _What would you have done if you had to choose between saving Arthur and saving Ealdor?"

She had him there, and he could only answer her truthfully, "I would have found a way to save them both," Merlin mumbled.

"But yet you chose to kill me Merlin, instead of finding another way. You held me in your arms and watched me die," the accusation in her voice was clear.

"I'm so sorry Morgana. I didn't want to. But everyone was gone, and there wasn't time to think of another solution before Arthur and I became fully under the influence of the spell," his voice was strained, pleading with her to understand.

"But why didn't you tell me? You're not the only one who is loyal to Arthur. I've known him for much longer than you have. If I had known I was the cause of the curse I would have made Morgause stop."

"But you couldn't have even if you wanted to Morgana. Morgause wouldn't have stopped if you asked her, you know that."

"Then I would have taken the hemlock willingly," she countered.

Merlin paused at that, having no quick response to her statement. He wondered how much truth was in her words. He knew that if he was in her position he would have willingly taken the poison, and that any of the knights of Camelot would have too, but would she really have scarified herself and betrayed her sister at that point?

"I didn't know that Morgana," his voice came out unevenly.

"You didn't even ask. I didn't know she used me to carry out the curse. She didn't give me a choice, and neither did you. Why would you think I wouldn't have sacrificed myself for the kingdom if I knew?"

_Just Kilgharrah's many warnings about your destiny._

Again, Merlin remained silent, which frustrated Morgana to no end.

"You hate magic don't you Merlin?"

Merlin was taken aback by her new question. _Why would she think that?_ And then he got it. _Oh god, she thinks I chose to poison her rather than search for another way because I'm afraid of her magic._

* * *

Arthur was hiding in the stables. He had spent all day trying to get away from his new manservant George, but nothing seemed to work. Tasks that seemed to take Merlin an entire day were finished within the hour by George. Arthur supposed he should have been pleased by the progress, but was only irritated. The man had absolutely no personality and social skills worse than Merlin's!

No, he was being too harsh. Arthur was just irritated in general. George was a fine servant, dedicated and competent, but he just wasn't Merlin.

"Arthur?" He was shaken out of his thoughts by Gwen's voice and he turned to see her approaching the stable.

"Gwen? Yes, wait, don't come in here, it's filthy. Merlin should have mucked the stalls last week," Arthur answered, walking out to meet her.

"I know you're worried Arthur," Gwen comforted, reaching out touch his arm, "but he'll be fine. Your father's been asking for you though, and I think George is tripping over himself in anxiety because he can't find you."

"Thank you Gwen," he managed a small smile, knowing she had added that last part to humor him, "I'll go to my father now."

Arthur knocked twice before entering his father's chambers— not that it mattered much. Uther was sitting in his chair, facing the window like always, completely listless.

"Father, you asked for me?" Arthur approached the King and sat down across from him.

Uther seemed to straighten a little at the sight of his son. "My son," he smiled," reaching across the small table that separated the two chairs and grasping Arthur's hands. "I have a task for you."

"Yes father, anything," Arthur answered, eager to do anything that would lift Uther's spirits.

"I want you to find Morgana."

"Morgana?" Arthur questioned, not expecting this request from his father.

"Yes. I want you to find her and _fix _her."

Arthur bristled a little at his words. He wasn't quite sure Morgana was able to be fixed, rather, he wasn't sure that she even needed _fixing. _

"Father? I know you miss Morgana— I do too, but she's made it very clear that she wants nothing to do with us anymore."

"NO," Uther was adamant, and he stood up to face his son. "She saved me from Odin's assassin." Uther started pacing, "It's the magic that's corrupting her, no doubt an influence of Morgause. I should have diposed of her while I had the chance. Our Morgana is still there, somewhere. Arthur, my dear son, promise me you will bring her back and we will find a cure for her magic."

Arthur was speechless, but what could he do but agree?

* * *

Morgana hated that Merlin met her questions with silence. It was just like when she first asked him if he thought she had magic.

"I really wish there was something I could say," was his inadequate answer at that time. And now he chose not to answer at all.

_Maybe it was time for another spell. _But she quickly tossed that idea out, not wanting to destroy the tiny fraction of trust she had gained with him.

She thought she'd feel better once she had her answers from Merlin but she only felt hurt. It seemed they would never understand each other.

Merlin still didn't know what to say, but the hurt that was so clearly reflected on Morgana's face made him want to fix this. He wished he could tell her everything, assure her that he poisoned her in an act of stupid desperation, and that he would never hate her for having magic because he did too.

"I don't hate magic Morgana," he started.

"I don't know what else I can say. I wish I would have done things differently. But there was no time, Morgana, and I thought you had already betrayed us for Morgause. You hated Uther, why would you have taken the poison to save his kingdom?

I can't change what I did," he continued, "You can blame me for that, for poisoning you, for not trusting you enough, but you can't accuse me of hating magic, of hating you for having magic."

And that was everything and all Morgana ever wanted to hear. When was the last time she had met a human that wasn't afraid of her magic? Never. Sure she had met those that "accepted" her magic, but merely because they wanted her power.

But Merlin didn't stop there. "You chose your own path too Morgana. You went to Morgause behind Uther's back. You commanded Cenred's men to take over Camelot and terrify its citizens. You released the Dorocha and killed even more innocents." Merlin was sorry, he truly was, and there wasn't a day that went by where he wondered if he had alienated Morgana into using her magic for evil, but she had done more than enough damage on her own. He thought of Lancelot; good men had died because of her actions.

"What you said to me, well, it holds true for you too. You had a choice, just like me. And maybe sometimes it is easier to think that we don't have choices, but it's like you said, there's _always _a choice." Merlin was angry too, and even though she had the upper hand here he wouldn't let her push all the blame away to everyone but herself.

Morgana met his gaze, knowing that there was some truth to his words, but not wanting to admit it.

They were at an impasse.

* * *

Agravaine twirled his crystal necklace by the candlelight, admiring the deep red hues. _How curious that this small jewel could bring back Tristan. How terrifying that it would link our lives together in such a delicate pendant. _

He had planned to head straight to the Pool of Nemhain to resurrect Lancelot and Tristan after checking in with Arthur, but instead found himself sitting in his quarters in Camelot Castle pondering the implications of using the crystal.

Agravaine missed his siblings, and perhaps that was why he was willing to work with Morgana. In her, he saw the same loneliness he felt. Tristan, the firstborn, was everything their father hoped for in a heir— strong, brave, crafty— brilliant both on and off the battlefield. Ygraine was equally blessed, and her beauty and kindness easily captured the attention of Uther Pendragon. The House of de Bois was lucky to have two such children.

Then there was him. It wasn't that Agravaine was unskilled. He was just, well, mediocre. He lacked Tristan's innate prowess and his ability to rouse others under his leadership. He neither possessed Ygraine's effortless likeability or her skill in emphasizing with people. And so, Agravaine fell behind the shadows of his siblings, but he never had a problem with that. All Agravaine ever wanted was a comfortable life.

It was different now. The grand House of de Bois was but a distant memory. His lands had shrunken considerably and his family all dead. It was now up to Agravaine to bring glory back to the de Bois' and bring justice to the deaths of his siblings.

In his mind, there was no better way to do that than to seize the throne to Camelot.

His thoughts circled back to his current predicament. He desperately wanted to crush the Pendragons and sorely missed his brother, but he was never one to take risks.

And this crystal was a big risk.

* * *

Merlin and Morgana sat in silence for a while, each not sure what to say.

Morgana wondered if it even mattered now— the past was the past, and maybe their paths were too different now to see eye-to-eye anymore. But she couldn't stop herself from wanting him to understand. No, she needed him to understand that although she was angry at him for poisoning her, she too had made a mistake.

She felt stupid. All she had wanted while she lived in Camelot was to make a difference— stand up for those Uther unfairly condemned. It frustrated her that regardless of how outspoken she was Uther would always have the final word.

When she met Morgause she thought she would finally be able to control her own destiny. Instead, she found herself simply following her sister's plans rather than making her own.

There was always a part of her that felt she had made a mistake in blinding trusting Morgause. But for all of Morgause's scheming, she was still her sister. She was still someone who treated her kindly, someone she could rely on. She was the one that ended the nightmares; she was the one that taught her how to use her magic. Most importantly, she finally didn't feel so alone with Morgause there.

But they had still argued. After Morgause had come to her rescue Morgana had come to understand that she was the vessel for the curse. For the first few days she was furious with Morgause, and childishly locked herself up in the room her sister provided for her. All Morgana wanted to end Uther's reign of terror, not curse the kingdom. She just wanted Camelot to understand that magic wasn't evil, and forcibly taking over the kingdom with magic wasn't the way to do that.

She thought back to that day, when everyone but Arthur, Merlin, and herself had fallen asleep and the castle was being invaded.

"Are you alright Morgana, you seem quiet." Arthur had asked.

"I'm fine." _She wasn't._

"You sure?"

He took out his sword then and she was terrified that he was going to realize she had magic and turn on her. Instead he gave his sword to her for protection.

"I can always tell when you're lying. Don't worry Morgana, I won't let any harm come to us," were his words.

She felt a rush of gratitude towards him then, and his promise and kind grin in the face of a terrifying situation meant the world to her. Her loyalty to Arthur was a big conflict of interest with her hatred towards Uther.

Arthur. Arthur was always honorable, always the hero. They had grown up together, but he had never realized she had magic. She couldn't exactly blame him— as they grew older he became too busy protecting the kingdom, trying to make Uther proud, or pursuing Gwen to notice her struggles. But at the end of the day she knew he would still do anything for her. And while she and Arthur grew apart, she thought she had gained a friend in Merlin. He was brave— not in traditional, sword-brandishing way that Arthur was, but he was willing to bring her to the druids even though Uther would have had executed him had he found out. Most of all, he had kept her secret, even made up an excuse when Arthur questioned why she was the only one awake.

No, regardless of what she felt towards Uther, her loyalty to Arthur and Merlin and those she cared about within Camelot was stronger. _There are some things worth dying for. _Saving the kingdom was worth it, was more important than her life. She would have taken the hemlock back then, before she had been filled with too much hate, and she hoped Merlin believed her.

While Morgana was lost in her thoughts Merlin couldn't help but look at her and think about how lovely she still looked. He mentally reprimanded himself for having that thought now. _Really Merlin? Even Gwaine wouldn't be thinking about a lady's beauty in this sort of situation._

Perhaps it was her change in attire, as she was no longer wearing those dark fraying dresses that seemed to slowly unravel with her state of mind. Instead, she wore travelling clothes— a simple white blouse and vest with functional cotton pants. Sure she was a little grimy— worn boots caked in mud, hair wet with sweat messily tied in a ponytail, and no makeup. But it was refreshing to see her that way and it reminded Merlin of the old days of them traveling together with Arthur. He desperately hoped it reflected a change in her mindset as well.

He was pulled out of his musings by Morgana's voice restarting the conversation. "Do you know what I learned from Morgause?" Morgana questioned, not bothering to wait for a response. "The decisions I make will change the shape of what is to come. The night before you poisoned me, she asked me whose side I was on, hers or Uther's. To be honest, it wasn't a hard choice.

But what I didn't know was that her side meant cursing the kingdom. I was too naïve for trusting her so easily, for not knowing that she used me to curse Camelot. When I chose her side all I wanted to do was end Uther's reign so I could stop living in fear, so those with magic could live freely. There are many things I regret, things I should have done differently."

Merlin couldn't believe his ears. This was the old Morgana, the girl he knew and admired. There was hope yet for her, and he was glad to hear what her true intentions were that day.

But then she continued. "But I won't apologize for taking action against Uther. I don't want his redemption, his forgiveness. For as many deaths as I have caused, Uther has caused thrice as many. There's so much I wish I could take back Merlin, but Uther deserved every terrible thing that came his way."

_Then what does she want? Why did she save him then? _Merlin didn't know what to say to that, and he found that this conversation raised as many questions as it answered.

He didn't necessarily disagree about Uther though. He too was guilty of wishing for a kingdom without Uther's rule, but found himself time and time again protecting Uther for Arthur's sake. It was hard to shape a world inclusive of magic while protecting Uther's reign, but he had no way around it— no way that wouldn't hurt Arthur.

Morgana sighed. "Let's take a walk Merlin, you must be sick of sitting here," Morgana extended her hand to Merlin.

He took it, not wanting their conversation to end and deciding that she meant no immediate harm. It was an odd feeling though— even a simple gesture like that felt too intimate to him given their current situation.

He hesitantly followed her out of the cave, and she smiled inwardly at his trepidation of leaving.

"Sorry about that," she offered, gesturing to the mouth of the cave, "I find that I'm not too good with barrier spells yet…it was only meant to keep any stray mercenaries out, not repel you inside."

He appreciated that she tried to explain, and he wanted to know more. "It's alright, I think I've gotten more sleep here than Arthur lets me have in a week," he joked feebly.

Morgana couldn't help but crack a small smile, and she was glad it was still dark enough outside that he wouldn't be able to see it. She was glad he was relaxed enough in her presence to make jokes though, and it seemed to alleviate some of the heavy pressure of their conversation.

"Do you know where the mercenaries came from? Arthur said our route through the Valley was a secret," Merlin continued, trying to fill up the silence and also wanting to know if she was behind the attack.

"I'm sure you're clever enough to figure it out Merlin. After all, didn't you just say your route was a secret?" Morgana replied.

"Agravaine," Merlin murmured lowly to himself. Merlin secretly appreciated her subtle compliment but was more concerned that Arthur's uncle was still determined to ruin Camelot.

The comment was not unheard by Morgana though, as the great deal of time she spent alone and in silence made her pick up on the smallest of sounds.

"Camelot has many enemies, magical and non-magical," Morgana stated nonchalantly. "Uther's actions will continue to shape Arthur's reign. Watch your step there."

Too late. Merlin tripped on a gnarled root and landed face first on the ground.

Morgana rolled her eyes, wondering if there was some validity in Arthur's incessant claims of Merlin's clumsiness. She walked toward him to offer her hand yet again, but stopped when she saw his face. She couldn't hide her amusement this time, and a smile soon turned into a small fit of giggles. Merlin's face was covered in red clay, and paired with his red neckerchief and purple shirt, he looked absolutely ridiculous.

She still liked being around him. She had almost forgotten the sound of her own laugh, but he had the uncanny ability of bringing easiness to any situation.

"Yes, very funny Morgana. You and Arthur really are siblings," Merlin groaned, picking himself up from the ground.

Her laughter stopped then, and he froze, realizing what he had just said.

"Morgana, I—"

"Don't get too attached, you'll be returning to him yet," Morgana said lightly, and with what Merlin thought was a shadow of a small smile, she then turned and continued on.

Merlin was stunned. _She runs so hot and cold, I don't know what to think. _But he was glad she let his comment go. Their interactions were so fragile and tumultuous that he didn't know if he should be on the offensive or walking on eggshells, but he started to feel more comfortable walking by her side.

One urgent question remained though. "Where are we going Morgana?"

"Camelot."

**A/N: Thanks for reading guys! Hopefully the next update will be less than a week :) Leave me a review?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello hello! I know this update took a bit longer to get out but I flew to Canada for a conference with my university and then I've been hit with exam after exam. **

**Again, much love to everyone that's followed, fav'd and reviewed. :)**

**To my wonderful reviewers, Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, LadyDunla, Mike, Sacred3 (Thanks for the dialogue note! I really need to take a proper writing course in school sometime, eek!), Kianix, IndiaMoore, jedimasterawesome, Kreeger (Thanks! Your review made me smile a lot haha)**

**I tweaked the timeline of my story vs the show because I wanted to quickly move past 'Lancelot du Lac' so hopefully it's not confusing!**

**Disclaimer: BBC owns Merlin... and Sherlock, and Dr. Who, and pretty much half the shows of substance on TV.**

For a warlock destined to become the greatest and most powerful sorcerer to ever live Merlin spent too much time passed out. He awoke to find himself slumped over a surly looking horse and groaned in frustration that yet again he'd fallen victim to another one of Morgana's spells. He quickly straightened himself up on the saddle and was surprised and relieved to find himself but a few miles away from Camelot. Merlin couldn't wait to get back to Camelot, but instead of spurring his horse on, he decided he'd make a pit stop to Kilgharrah.

* * *

_The day before:_

"Camelot?" Merlin questioned, not understanding Morgana's answer fully. Was she planning on returning? How would she make it past the guards? What were her intentions? Funny how every answer she gave him only brought forth new questions.

She chose to ignore that question, instead indicating that they stop for breakfast. He couldn't deny that he was _starving_ and decided not to press her for an answer. _Yet._

He should have asked her though, while he still had the time. They stopped in a little clearing by a small river and ate in a surprisingly comfortable silence. There was so much left to say, but for now they would just enjoy the rising sun and the singular sound of water rushing down the creek. He decided he would just enjoy his breakfast, a delicious meal of flatbread and cured salmon that she procured from her knapsack. Morgana started a fire with a simple incantation as well, and soon they had tea to go with the meal. Yes, it was too nice a day and too nice a meal to ruin just yet. He would approach the subject again once they finished eating.

Morgana had other plans though. As much as she wanted to continue talking with Merlin she had made other plans. She had sent word to Alator of the Catha of her arrival and she was already two days late. It had taken a great deal of time and effort to track him down and she could not be delayed any longer. No, best to cast a sleeping spell on Merlin and send him on a horse back to Camelot.

And so, one moment Merlin was wiping the crumbs off his pants, thinking that travelling with Morgana wasn't so bad— at least he didn't have to do the dishes for an entire entourage of knights like when he travelled with Arthur— and the next he was sound asleep again, courtesy of the sleeping tonic Morgana had slipped in his tea. Morgana levitated him to her horse, and cast a protection spell on the both of them for good measure. With Merlin's luck he would probably run into mercenaries or thieves before reaching Camelot. She was reluctant to let him go. It was funny how _insignificant _his betrayal seemed now. Morgana had lost so much already— betrayed the family she used to love, watched as her kind was cut down by her father, and sacrificed her own sister. While it still pained her that he chose to poison her, she understood his actions and intentions a little better now.

There was a part of her that wished she could bring him with her, finish their conversation and make him _understand_ her. She sorely missed having someone to talk to and the brief time she spent with Merlin rekindled her memories of the past when they were friends. She knew he was too loyal to Arthur though, and would fight her tooth and nail to get back to him. That same part of her wanted to enchant him to go with her, make him as loyal to her as he was to Arthur so she'd never have to be alone again, but Morgana pushed that thought away as soon as it was going to have to learn to face things on her own now and stop using magic to force her way.

With a few carefully chosen words whispered in the horse's ear and a final tug on Merlin's thin brown jacket to keep him warm on the road, she sent them on the path back to Camelot Castle.

Despite her small detour, Morgana had quickly found her way to the city where Alator of the Catha was rumored to reside.

She hesitated at entering. _What am I going to say? _Morgana was still getting used to being on her own. Morgause was the one who had navigated them through the magical community and suddenly Morgana felt stiff and awkward.

_Oh come on Morgana, you've made it all the way here. How many times have you greeted Uther's guestes at Camelot? _So she took a deep breath and walked up the stairs to Alator's home.

She was blocked by one of Alator's disciples at the top of the stairs. "He's expecting me," she had said curtly, and the man had moved out of her way.

And just beyond the doorway was the man she was looking for.

"You are Alator of the Catha," she said pointedly, "Warrior and Priest." She winced inwardly. _Not your finest introduction Morgana. _

"You are Morgana Pendragon. High Priestess of the Triple Goddess and the last of your kind," Alator greeted her in a similar fashion. "What is it that you seek here?"

"I wish to learn magic from you."

Morgana could see the surprise in face at his response. _I wonder what he's heard about me. I wonder what he thought I wanted. _

"And in return for teaching you magic?"

She lifted her arm up and pulled back her sleeve to reveal Morgause's bracelet, one of the few magical items she had kept from her sister. "It was forged on the Isle of the Blessed by a High Priestess. Its healing powers are without equal in the Five Kingdoms."

Alator eyed her suspiciously but reached out to trace the markings on her bracelet. "There is true power here," he observed. "This is a precious gift."

"We have a deal then?" Morgana asked, taking the bracelet off her wrist and holding it out to the Catha.

"Aye, I will teach you magic. But keep your bracelet. I'm sure we can work something else out." Again he was surprised by her. She seemed to be serious about learning magic, and if that was her true intention in seeking him out, he would be more than willing to share his knowledge freely.

And so Morgana became a student under Alator.

It was awkward at first. She was taken aback by his extreme formalness and rigid mannerisms, and he was not used to her snippy comments, but they soon grew fond of each other.

Morgana grew to like him first. She liked his accent— he was from a part of Albion she had never travelled to— but his words were filled with warmth. She liked his dwelling too. It was simple, the walls and floors a subtle crème color with the occasional tapestry adorning the room. He was a simple man of very little material needs, and the room he provided her was perhaps the most decorated in the tower. If her room was deficient in décor though, she never noticed. She had a bed, a desk, two windows, and most importantly, a tall bookshelf of books about the Old Religion that she delved into voraciously.

And after the first two days the atmosphere finally relaxed when she realized it was her frosty behavior that was causing the problem. He warmed up to her then and she had finally gotten him to stop referring to her as 'High Priestess of The Triple Goddess.'

"Really, simply Morgana's fine," she insisted.

He still felt that was much too informal and she had settled on being called 'Lady Morgana.'

She found herself changing under his guidance, and it was all for the better.

The first change was the disappearance of her smirk.

"If I'm to teach you anything I've got to stop feeling like you're scheming my demise," he had reprimanded one day while demonstrating the use of hydromancy.

Morgana hadn't even noticed she was smirking. She was merely excited and awed by Alator's use of water to scry for one of his disciples.

She smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, it seems like old habits die hard."

And he seemed to believe she meant no ill will. "Put on a proper smile then. It's powerful magic— useful magic— and soon you'll be able to do it too," he encouraged.

The second change was much more subtle. Morgana spent her nights listening to stories of Alator's adventure. Some were funny, as she learned that in his youth Alator was a brash young sorcerer who often rushed into situations with little forethought.

"When I was younger I had accidently set a goblin free on the Isle of the Blessed," he recalled on night.

"A goblin? I've never seen one of those," Morgana responded, curious about all the creatures Alator had encountered in his life.

"Mischievous little things— you should hope you never meet one," Alator grimaced.

"What happened then?"

"Well, I didn't know what to do. I had never seen a real goblin before and all I could seem to remember was that they were attracted to gold. And what do you think I did?" he asked with a furtive smile.

"You turned something into gold? Is that possible? Alchemy that is?" she questioned, awed by the breadth and depth of his magical abilities.

"Aye, alchemy is possible. And well, it would have been better if I had been using my brain, but I was so nervous and worried I thought it would be a good idea to turn my own arm into gold in order to entice the goblin back into its cage," he shook his head and sighed jokingly. "And it wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't forgotten the spell to return my arm back to normal. No one would have had to know, but I ended up having to come clean to one of the Priestesses so she could fix my spell."

Morgana laughed— a genuine laugh. A few days ago she would have guessed that Alator was a very strict and disciplined child. She loved hearing his stories, and imagined what her life would have been like if she had grown up around magic.

However, most stories were of a much serious nature, as he had spent most of his adult life being chased all over the five kingdoms. Morgana admired him— admired his power, his wisdom, and his strength. She felt that he was truly a gentle man. He was firm because of his upbringing as a Priest of the Old Religion, tough because of the situations life dealt onto him, but he was always fair and forgiving.

He tried to teach her that, for he saw how deeply her hatred ran. He too had felt consumed by his hatred once. He had witnessed the destruction of the Isle of the Blessed, seen his brothers and sisters hacked down by Uther's cruel soldiers, and been tortured and abused by those who wanted to bring him to Camelot for a bounty. He survived it all, been stronger than all his foes, but for what? For a long time he didn't know what his purpose in life was anymore so he focused all his efforts into revenge. For all his powers he was just one man though, not nearly powerful enough to destroy Uther's kingdom, so he settled for little victories. He would hide in the forests, on paths that Uther's men would frequent, and kill any knights that came his way. But that was not enough. He soon grew bolder, ventured into small towns in Uther's realm and killed any knights he encountered there. He lived like this for many years, sustained by his hate for Camelot.

But like Morgana, the nightmares never stopped for him. No matter how many of Uther's men he slain, he would still see the faces of the Priests and Priestesses he grew up with dying in his dreams. Then he met the druids, and heard their prophecies of a time where magic would be restored, of a man that would unite the Old and New Religions. They had helped him realize that instead of causing the same destruction that plagued his sleep, he should retire to a safe haven, hone his craft, and be a beacon of light for any remaining practitioners of the Old Religion. He would stop destroying, bide his time until the day came where he and others like him could recreate Albion into a world inclusive of magic.

So bit by bit Morgana began to understand Alator more— the gentle, funny side, and the serious, painful side. He had experienced loneliness and hurt far greater than anything she had ever felt. The burden of magic was one he understood well. By nature Morgana had a good heart, a caring soul, and in the past, when hatred had reared its ugly head she would always push it away. As of late, she had given in, let it drive her, but she was slowly starting to learn from Alator that she would have to temper and resolve her anger before it consumed her.

As the days turned into weeks she felt calmer, less agitated. Surely but slowly she remembered that her magic could create, could heal, rather than destroy. Spending time with Alator made it easier for her to let go of the hate she felt, but there still was something inside her that she just couldn't let go.

She remembered how she came to despise Uther so much in the first place. When she returned to Camelot after spending a year with Morgause she was disappointed to learn that Uther hadn't changed. He was still ruthless in his pursuit to destroy all those with magic and still unjust in his persecutions. And when she realized Uther was her father, it was as if something in her snapped. Poor Gorlois, a man who wasn't even her blood father but who had raised her and loved her and who had met his death only because Uther did not send ample reinforcements as promised. Uther, this man— no, this monster, was her father. She hated him. Hated him for his iron rule, hated him for his persecution of magic, and hated him for being her father.

It was during the evening hours after their magic lessons, when he had left her alone in her room, that Alator often found Morgana staring out her window, deep in thought, sighing every few minutes. While he talked openly about his past, Alator never pushed Morgana to talk about hers. The Lady Morgana was well-known throughout the kingdoms as King Uther's ward, and when she turned on Camelot, the news of her betrayal was equally as widespread. He didn't know the details, but he had a general clue as to what her past was like.

"What are you thinking about my lady?" he finally asked her one evening as he brought her supper. If she didn't want to tell him, so be it, but Alator wanted her to know he was there for her.

She glanced away from the window, looking at Alator as if surprised he had asked. "I was just looking at that lamp post outside. It reminds me of the one from my home."

Morgana indicated to the lamp post outside her window. It was a rather unusual looking post, bordering on gaudy, with one main lantern and five smaller lanterns branching out. Curiously, the light in the main chamber seemed to burn twice as bright as a normal lamp.

"In Camelot Castle?" Alator inquired.

"No, outside the city of Camelot, where I grew up."

"Tell me about it," was his simple response.

Morgana sighed again but moved from the window to sit at the table with Alator. "As a knight my father had a residence within the City of Camelot, but he maintained his own small dukedom outside the city. We lived there for most of my childhood— Uther didn't surround himself with his knights as closely before the Great Purge." She paused, took a piece of the bread Alator brought for supper, and started tearing it into smaller pieces.

Alator chose not to interject, and waited for her to continue her story.

"We had a post, just like yours, with 6 lanterns that my mother had asked a sorcerer to enchant so it would always glow strongly and brightly in the night. My mother said it was so Father would always know he had reached home even in the darkest of nights. Whenever we heard news that a battle was over, I would wait outside for him to return. If he didn't return by evening, I would sneak out after I had been put to bed and I would wait outside by that lamp post for him." Morgana smiled then, recalling that memory fondly, and then continued her story, "Every time he returned home from battle he would see me waiting by the post for him and he would get off his horse, lift me up, and let me ride on his shoulders back into our home and tuck me into bed." She relaxed into her story, and it felt good to tell someone about Gorlois. "Sitting on his shoulders I felt so loved and protected. We were a family, and it was the little things like having that lamp post and riding on my father's shoulders that made me feel loved. It was different in Camelot. Uther would buy me pretty dresses and jewels and tell me how he cared about me as if I were his own daughter," Morgana's face twisted into a look of anger then, "But none of that meant anything. Buying pretty trinkets don't require thoughtfulness or love. Uther spent all his time and his love on Arthur, and it was fine then, because he was Arthur's father, not mine and I was just grateful he took me in."

Alator felt for the young sorceress. Who would have expected Uther Pendragon to have a daughter naturally blessed with powerful magic? Alator felt that Uther's fate was sealed— he had condemned himself by condemning the gods of the Old Religion and he would eventually perish for his violent crusades against magic-users, but he understood how Morgana would be struggling to understand her relationship with the King.

She continued, almost sadly, "But there was one time where I truly loved and needed him. When my father died on the Northern Plains I couldn't believe it. I didn't understand how he would not be coming back. My mother was gone too by then, so he was all I had left. I just waited by my lamp, day and night, for him to return. I remember I didn't cry— I just waited. And when the servants came to try and take me inside, I would kick and bite and scream and find a way back outside to my lamp post again. Eventually, they gave up and would just bring my suppers outside and even set up a little bed of hay for me by the lamp."

Alator gave a warm chuckle then. The young Priestess reminded him of himself as a child, headstrong and petulant, but he was proud of her. He was proud she didn't cry, proud that from a young age she was strong.

Morgana continued, "I guess someone eventually sent word to Camelot that Gorlois' child was waiting for him to return, and Uther himself rode to our home. I had never seen him in person before. I had always been too young to be taken to Court with my parents. I remember being so tired and scared when I saw him ride up with his knights. I guess Uther somehow could see that, and to my surprise, he got off his horse, introduced himself, and then picked me up and put me on his shoulders. Of course I kicked and screamed and fought but he never let go. He just held me firmly in place, walked me back home, and put me in bed, dirty clothes and all. I was so angry— I wanted to go back out and wait for Father, but he knelt by my bed, looked me in the eye and said 'It's okay, I'll protect you now.'"

Alator couldn't read Morgana's expression. She looked so sad, so torn. He was surprised at Uther's gentleness, but his years on the run from the King of Camelot had left him with little sympathy for the man regardless of any redeeming actions.

"I think then I knew my father wasn't coming back, and I bawled my eyes out. But as much despair as I felt then I also felt relief and took comfort in the fact that this man, my father's friend and King of Camelot was there for me. He would mourn my loss with me and we would face the future together," Morgana's pale eyes looked away from Alator's, as if ashamed that she felt any sort of affection towards the King who outlawed magic.

"They are both your father," Alator responded gently, "They have both shaped you, but you are a High Priestess of the Triple Goddess. You are a being of much greater power and importance and you must not dwell on the past." Morgana's story was touching, but Alator needed her to understand that the past didn't matter anymore, that all she could do is focus on developing her magic. What he really wanted to say was that she shouldn't dwell on thinking about Uther anymore. He would have to pay for his crimes against magic and it would be best that she put him out of her heart completely to save her from more heartache.

"It's stupid, I know that Alator. It should hardly matter anymore— I shouldn't even be thinking about it," she looked at Alator, feeling so guilty that she was talking about her relationship with her fathers when Alator had lost his entire family. "You know better than I that magic will not flourish as long as Uther is in power," she continued, "But I don't know if I could do it even though I do hate him. Why is it Alator, that for all my supposed power I can't even kill one man who had caused so much damage to our kind?"

Alator didn't respond. He patted her hand and gave her a warm smile, "It's not stupid." He knew that she was in a delicate and strange situation— she could not bring herself to let go of her hate for Uther, nor did she think she could bring herself to strike him down. Only time would tell how she would act upon her feelings toward Uther. "Please eat," he gestured to the tray he brought, "I didn't mean to keep you from your supper with all this talk."

Morgana smiled gratefully at him. She didn't really need an answer from him. Her question was something she would have to figure out on her own, but it was nice to have someone to talk to.

He was glad Morgana had opened up to him, and she began to talk more, about both her childhood and her time in Camelot. She seemed happier, gentler, but like Morgana said, old habits were hard to break, and Alator still did all he could to keep her from tapping into her darker side. He took her back to the basics, teaching her spells Morgause had chosen to forgo in favor of darker magic.

Morgana had always been a quick learner, whether it was cross-stitching or swordplay. She had spent a whole ten minutes daintily riding sidesaddle before deciding that was a silly way to ride a horse and sat astride her horse and galloped away from her trainer much to her mother's dismay. Even with magic, everything Morgause taught her she picked up in no more than an hour.

With Alator, it was different. He made her learn magic without the use of talismans or crystals— she would only be allowed to use her natural gift. It was alright some days. They had discovered she had a natural talent for healing spells and had the ability to See without any magical crutch. She was terrible at offensive spells though, and after three hours of repeating the same incantation over and over again, she sighed in frustration.

"I give up Alator! Isn't there some other spell we can try?"

"What are you going to do if you're ever surrounded and outnumbered by your enemies? You can't always scream and hope that everything around you will crumble on top of them," he had reprimanded.

He knew she had a natural talent that surpassed his, but she still had much to learn if she wanted to reach her full potential, and in the dangerous world they were living in, she had to be able to protect herself.

Morgana let out another long sigh. "Maybe I'll just demonstrate my swordsmanship if screaming fails me," she jokingly responded, but went back to practicing the spell.

* * *

Arthur was losing it. Uther had been resolute in his goal to bring back Morgana and it was now up to Arthur to come up with a plan. He still didn't understand why she even saved Uther in the first place, and Merlin was still missing. As if that wasn't enough, he still had to figure out how the mercenaries discovered their route. His Uncle suspected that Gaius may have been the leak, but Arthur couldn't believe that. No, he was sure Gaius was an honorable and reliable friend to the kingdom.

But just when he was sure he knew who he could trust, he was dealt another harsh blow. He had come out of his conversation with his father with a heavy heart, only to be met with the great news that Lancelot had returned. He eagerly welcomed his friend back, ordering a lavish feast to be held in his honor.

_At least some good will always come through. _

He was relieved that Lancelot had been saved, and he saw the same relief in Gwen's face. He knew they had shared some feelings in the past, but he had no doubt those feelings were all left in the past. He was going to marry her. As soon as things settled down he would approach his father to bless their marriage and he would be able to declare their union to the entire kingdom. He was just glad she could stop feeling guilty about Lancelot's death now.

It was all too good to be true though, and Arthur's heart broke when he walked in on Gwen and Lancelot embracing in the cover of the night. He was kissing her, but even worse, she was kissing him back.

It was too much for Arthur to bear.

In a rush of anger and emotion he had rushed at his former friend and Lancelot and Arthur had exchanged blows. Arthur was so filled with rage he truly believed he might have killed Lancelot if it were not for Gwen's voice begging him to stop.

It seemed as though the Prince of Camelot would be allowed no small joys, no reprieve from his troubles. The betrayal of Gwen and Lancelot were just one more disaster to add to his already mounting issues.

Arthur had ordered the pair to be taken to the dungeons— he could not bear to address them just yet, and he had locked himself in his room.

He couldn't think anymore. Usually Merlin would be there to offer some surprisingly wise words of advice. Merlin always seemed to know what to say in hard situations, and no matter how much Arthur insisted on being alone, Merlin would always make sure the young prince knew that he would be there to support him before letting Arthur stew in his own thoughts. But Merlin was still missing, and that thought just depressed and angered Arthur even more. Arthur needed to do something— anything— and so he settled for throwing his sword belt on his bed, where the soft sheets muffled the sound of its angry impact.

God_ Merlin, where are you? _

* * *

Agravaine took up the role as resident smirker in Morgana's absence. But for good reason, as for once things were going Agravaine's way. He had successfully driven a wedge between Arthur and the serving wench Gwen, and Arthur's spirits were in shambles. With any luck he would have her executed, but knowing Arthur's soft heart, it was more likely he'd merely exile her. Agravaine was surprised at how easily his nephew had been tricked by the shade of Lancelot and disgusted at how angry Arthur was at discovering their betrayal. Agravaine would never understand what Arthur saw in Gwen, or Lancelot for that matter. She was nothing more than a servant, with no noble blood, no dowry, no alliances that she could bring to the marriage. And Lancelot— his background was as poor as the girl's— he didn't even deserve to be a knight of the kingdom to begin with. Agravaine felt no sympathy watching Arthur's heart break. This was his punishment, and the Pendragons would only see more suffering in the future if things went his way.

He stopped in the dungeons to see Lancelot and command the shade to take his own life within the hour. _One less loose end to tie up_. Emboldened by his new success, Agravaine was ready to take the next step and bring back his brother. Arthur had enough to deal with— Gwen's sentence, flushing out the traitor within Camelot, his wasteful search for that servant boy who was most likely dead— and it seemed as if the old fool Uther wanted something from Arthur too. Agravaine decided that Arthur would not miss his presence, and he slipped out of the Castle unnoticed, heading towards the Pool of Nemhain to put the next part of his plan into action.

**A/N: Not a lot of Merlin screen time, but hopefully you enjoyed the Morgana/Alator bonding (In my mind, he's sort of like what Gaius is to Merlin. I always felt that Morgana was missing that older mentor/uncle character— hence the extended development of Alator). I also love his Scottish accent so just imagine that whenever you're reading his dialogue!**

**Working on the next chapter now! Thanks for reading and leave me a review please :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Happy (belated) Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate it! **

**I'm super thankful for every new review, fav, and follow I get (among other things of course) – it really puts a smile on my face when I see a new notification in my inbox :)**

**Shout out to my reviewers— LadyDunla (I'm glad you think so! Yea, it definitely was rushed— I'm hoping to write a proper scene with Gwen in either the next chapter or the one after that though), Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, Sacred3 (Thank you! This is my first fic ever and it's made me really wish I had time in my curriculum to take a substantial writing course), Kianix, serenityskywalker (thanks, I secretly liked the whole arc of Morgana and Morgause scheming together, but I'm not sure if I like how her character developed after she lost Morgause), Insanetrouble (Awww, thanks so much!), Jedimasterawesome (Thank you!)**

**Onward we go!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. Sigh sigh sigh. **

Agravaine found that the more exposure he had to magic the more he disliked it. All his experiences with magic involved dark and eerie places, and the Pool of Nemhain was perhaps the creepiest of them all. He waded slowly into the murky waters of the Pool, careful not to walk in too deep. Agravaine was not a particularly imaginative man, but the darkness of the Pool engendered dark and sinister thoughts within him. Though he did not think anything lived in these dead waters, Agravaine could not help but be fearful that something other than his brother would arise from the Pool. Carefully Agravaine took off his crystal necklace and a small dagger. He placed the tip of his left index finger to the end of the blade and applied pressure, drawing blood.

_Drip._

_Drip._

Two drops of Agravaine's blood covered the crystal, and with that, he had completed the first part of the Dochraid's instructions. Instead of merely covering the crystal, the magical item absorbed Agravaine's blood, the reddish hue turning into an obsidian color. Agravaine didn't know much about magic, but he hoped this meant he was doing everything correctly. Taking the next step, he dipped the crystal into the Pool of Nemhain.

_Please brother, answer my call. _Agravaine had learned from the Dochraid that although he could summon his brother's spirit, Tristan could ignore his call. He was scared that his brother would prefer to remain among the spirits, among their sister and parents, rather than unnaturally return to the world of the living. _Please brother, I need you. The Pendragons must pay for their sins, but I cannot do this alone. Together we can bring justice for our sister and glory to our name. _

Agravaine wished with all his might for his brother to come. He wasn't sure what was supposed to happen, was he supposed to say some incantations? Was his brother supposed to rise from the waters like Lancelot had? But a minute passed, then ten, then thirty, and nothing had happened.

Agravaine was tired and disappointed. His feet and legs were freezing and his brother was nowhere to be seen. Disheartened, Agravaine dragged himself out of the water and mounted his horse, heading back to Camelot to contemplate where he could go from here.

* * *

Merlin stopped by a small clearing a short distance away from Camelot but far and secluded enough where he would not encounter any local villagers or travelers.

He dismounted his horse and tied the animal to a tree, for fear it would flee when Merlin summoned the dragon.

"O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!" Merlin called out, his eyes quickly flashing gold, and within a minute Merlin heard the sound of flapping wings that signaled the descent of Kilgharrah.

"Hello Merlin," greeted the old dragon as he landed gracefully in the clearing.

Merlin cut straight to the chase, "I saw Morgana," he blurted out, needing the Great Dragon's advice but also wanting to get back to Camelot as soon as possible.

"The witch? What is she plotting now," the Great Dragon raised one eyebrow in slight interest.

"Nothing. Well… I'm not sure," Merlin responded. "She saved Uther from Odin's assassins and then saved me from Agravaine's mercenaries."

Merlin had the Dragon's full attention now. "How curious," the Dragon murmured, "Tell me more."

And so, Merlin recounted how Morgana snuck into Camelot to kill the father she supposedly hated and how he had encountered her again in the Valley of the Fallen Kings. He told the Dragon of how she had healed him and sent him back towards Camelot.

Kilgharrah listened intently, suprised by the turn of events. _What could the witch possible hope to gain by those actions? _He didn't know why she saved Merlin and Uther, but he still didn't trust her. Kilgharrah hated seeing the hope in his young friend's eyes. There would be only hurt and heartbreak ahead if Merlin decided the witch was worth trusting again.

"Do you not remember the consequences of trusting the witch?" Kilgharrah questioned. "Was it not you who said you should have never trusted her when she stormed Camelot?"

"Yes, but she's _changed _this time. I _know _she has. Morgause is gone and she's not working with Agravaine anymore. She just needs someone to help bring her back to her old self," Merlin insisted.

The Great Dragon struggled not to roll his eyes. Kilgharrah wanted nothing but to help the young Dragonlord, but there were only so many ways he could repeat the same warnings.

"It matters not Merlin. Have you forgotten that she is destined to cause the ruin of Albion? Whatever sliver of good she could possibly have left is not enough to change her destiny."

The Dragon admired Merlin. The young warlock was kind and courageous but Kilgharrah had lived too long and seen too much to know that destinies could rarely be changed. "The witch cannot escape her destiny. None of us choose our destiny, and none of us can escape it." Kilgharrah was firm. "You choose to see the good in her because you are good, but this cannot continue Merlin. If you are to protect Arthur then you must strike down the witch."

Merlin knew his old friend was right— Kilgharrah pretty much always was, but he refused to accept that Morgana was past saving. "Why can't it be my destiny to help change?" Merlin was adamant. "Maybe saving Albion means saving Morgana."

Merlin's steely gaze was met by one of intrigue from the Dragon.

* * *

Arthur was at a loss of what to do with Gwen. He knew what his father and uncle would say, but he couldn't bear to execute her. He tossed and turned for a night but still had no ideal solution when he awoke. To make matters worse, Arthur had received word that Lancelot had taken his own life, and as angry as Arthur was at his betrayal, Arthur still felt he had lost one of his bravest and noblest knights.

_No, there will be no more bloodshed over this. I will exile her. She will never be allowed to return to Camelot and in time I will forget her. _

Perhaps his choice made him weak, but Gwen had buried herself too deeply in his heart for him to sentence her to death.

And so he had banished her. Hurt and remorse was clearly reflected on her face, but Arthur remained firm, ignoring her cries and pleas.

"I cannot be without you," was the last plaintive plea he had heard from her.

"Take her away," he commanded his guards, "She has one hour to gather her belongings and then escort her from the castle." He couldn't say any more than that for fear his own voice would crack with emotion.

Banishing Gwen only made Arthur feel worse, and he couldn't stand being in the Castle for a minute longer. Arthur knew he would only spend the next hour glancing out his window at her house to watch her pack and depart Camelot forever. He would not put himself through that. He would do something more useful. _I'm going to find Merlin. I've waited much too long to search for him. _

And ten minutes later, Arthur had clad himself in chainmail and ridden out of the Camelot. He thought it was funny that no one stopped him. Usually Gwen or Merlin would have followed him down the steps of the citadel, reprimanding him for trying to set out on a dangerous quest alone, but Arthur no longer had anyone to look out for him. Even though he still had his father, Uther was far too wrapped up in his own damaged mind to notice the recent tumultuous events in Arthur's life. Arthur was determined to ride out alone to find Merlin, and even his closest knights felt it unwise to approach Arthur to change his mind.

* * *

Merlin bade his friend farewell and watched Kilgharrah fly away. Everything that the Great Dragon had told Merlin, he already knew, but Merlin had left the Dragon with an interesting thought.

It was too early for Kilgharrah to say anything, but the old dragon truly wondered if there was some sense in Merlin's theory. _Perhaps if he saves the witch he will be able to save Albion from destruction. _There was a small chance- perhaps as small as whatever piece of goodness was left in the witch— but the Great Dragon had foreseen a possible future where she had coexisted peacefully with Prince Arthur. It was the smallest of possibilities though, and that future was so distant and vague that despite all the Dragon's powers, he could not see the particulars or what actions would be necessary for that to come to pass.

After seeing Kilgharrah fly into the distance, Merlin untied his horse and continued on the journey home. He found himself once again putting aside the Great Dragon's advice to do what he believed was right.

It wasn't that the Great Dragon didn't make the most rational points. Time and time again, Kilghrarrah had proven himself to be the most helpful of Merlin's limited friends. Merlin knew he should just listen to the dragon's advice but he couldn't help thinking there was more to Morgana than the Dragon imagined. He wondered how insignificant Morgana must seem in the Great Dragon's eyes. The Dragon had lived for over a thousand years, watched the birth and death of thousands of humans, sorcerers, kings, and peasants alike.

Perhaps the Dragon saw Morgana as no more than one of those many humans that passed out of his life in the blink of an eye, but to Merlin, she meant much more. In Merlin's life she wasn't just another human. She was so important— important to Camelot— to Uther and Arthur. Most of all, she was important to him. He would ponder her significance to him another day though— he was losing daylight and needed to get back to Camelot quickly.

In the corner of his eye Merlin caught a glimpse of red which pulled him out of his thoughts completely. It was approaching rather quickly and Merlin only hoped it wasn't more trouble.

Squinting, he saw that the approaching figure was none other than Arthur.

Merlin used to hate Arthur's red cape. It was too long and cumbersome. It seemed to get in the way every time Arthur had to fight, and he either ended up dirtying the cape or having it be slashed through by one of his opponents. Either way, Merlin ended up being the one who had to wash and repair it.

But this time, Merlin could not have been happier to see Arthur riding up, clad in the billowing scarlet cape.

"MERLIN?" Arthur was the first to call out, "Is that you?"

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted in response, and got off his horse to greet the Prince.

Arthur followed suit, dismounting and walking rapidly to Merlin, grinning ear to ear. "Where have you been?" he questioned, pulling his no longer missing manservant into a hug. "And WHY have you not showered?"

Merlin chuckled in response, pulling out of the embrace and smiling at Arthur. "It's a long story. I have so much to tell you."

"As do I my friend, as do I." Arthur gripped Merlin on the shoulder, giving him a tight squeeze. "It's so good to see you. Let's get you back to Camelot."

Merlin spent the entire ride back to Camelot with a giant smile plastered to his face. He had missed Arthur greatly, worried about how he was doing and if he was safe, and it warmed his heart to see that Arthur seemed to miss him just as much.

After the initial shock of finding Merlin alive and well had worn off Arthur felt a little embarrassed by his display of affection. He didn't realize he'd feel such a rush of emotion at finding Merlin alive. Arthur could see Merlin's huge smile out of the corner of his eye and decided he'd let this one go. Though he wasn't aware, an equally as wide smile had permanently taken residence on Arthur's face. Arthur would never admit it, but there was perhaps nothing he enjoyed more than travelling together with Merlin. In that moment everything was right with the world. Arthur's kingdom wasn't under attack, his father was alive and well, he had a legion of loyal knights, and he was riding through his beautiful lands with his dearest friend. Yes, Arthur felt that he would be okay despite his remaining troubles.

* * *

Merlin was glad to be home. He could not have dreamed of a warmer welcome than the one he received. Gwaine had promised to treat him to a night out at the tavern, Percival had lifted him up in a bone-crushing hug, Elyan and Leon had somehow sneaked a small feast of dumplings and roast pheasant from the kitchen for Merlin, and even old Gaius had run into the Great Hall to greet him, almost tripping on his long robes. They were all curious as to where he had been, and he had told them the truth— he had been slowly making his way back to Camelot after being separated from Arthur, all the while hiding from any remaining mercenaries. He left out the small detail of meeting Morgana— Merlin wasn't sure everyone needed to know that just yet.

They all feasted together, with Leon miraculously procuring dish after dish from the kitchen— it seemed that old cook had a small crush on him— and even Arthur had joined them after a meeting with his counselors. It was a merry night, but Merlin soon realized that he hadn't seen Gwen yet.

He turned to Arthur, who was sitting next to him, "Where is Gwen? I haven't seen her all day."

And suddenly the table turned quiet.

"Well Merlin, it's good to have you back, but it's about time I get back on patrol." Leon was the first to rise. He bowed to Arthur, patted Merlin on the back and departed the Hall.

"Good ol' Leon, reminding us of our responsibilities. Well Merlin, let me know when you fancy a visit to the tavern," Gwaine stood up next, ruffling Merlin's hair and heading out after Leon.

Elyan and Percival murmured something along the same lines as the previous two knights and excused themselves from the room.

Gaius sighed. Someone really should have updated Merlin when he arrived. He was glad to see his young ward back but sorry his first night would be spent consoling the young prince. There was never a lack of trouble or activity at Camelot.

Gaius left too, saying he was too old to stay up so late. "I'll leave a candle lit for you Merlin. Good night Your Highness."

And so it was just Arthur and Merlin.

"Well… isn't this romantic," Merlin joked, confused by everyone's sudden departure.

Arthur sighed, "Merlin…" He didn't want to talk about Gwen, it was just all too soon. "It's complicated. I've banished Gwen."

Merlin nearly choked on his drink at those words. "Banished Gwen? What are you saying?"

"I didn't _want_ to Merlin, I had no choice. She _betrayed _me. Her and Lancelot."

"Lancelot? Arthur, Lancelot's dead. I saw him go through the Veil with my own eyes." Merlin didn't understand what was going on.

"I thought so too, Merlin. I didn't believe he was back until I saw it. He said he was saved by some villagers, and it didn't really matter— we were all glad to have him back."

Merlin couldn't process this information. _I'm sure he passed through the Veil. There's no way he could have come back, the Calliech demanded a sacrifice. Something's not quite right. _

"You're sure it was him?" Merlin asked again.

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur answered, exasperated that Merlin seemed fixated on that point of the story. "It was Lancelot, in the flesh. You can ask any of the knights— or Gaius. Everyone saw him."

"Sorry," Merlin could see that Arthur wanted to get on with the story, "What happened?"

"They were in love with each other. Gwen and Lancelot." Arthur paused and took a deep breath— "I found them kissing. I thought she had moved on from him, but I suppose I was wrong."

"_No," _Merlin couldn't believe Gwen or Lancelot would betray Arthur. "There must be an explanation."

"That's just it Merlin. They had none. All she could say was that she couldn't live without me, but clearly her actions said otherwise."

"And Lancelot?"

Arthur looked at Merlin uncomfortably, "He took his own life."

Now Merlin _knew _something was wrong. Lancelot would never betray Arthur, and he would never take his own life. Not the Lancelot he knew. The Lancelot he knew was honorable and noble. He had worked too hard and sacrificed too much to become a knight to hurt his prince, to throw away his life.

"Merlin, I don't wish to talk about it any longer," Arthur snapped Merlin out of his thoughts. "Tell me, what happened to you? I want to know everything."

Merlin opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn't sure how much he should tell Arthur. _Oh hell with it. It's Arthur. He should know. _

"Well, after we got separated, I think I passed out from all the blood I lost, and when I woke up I was trapped in a cave."

Arthur gripped his goblet tightly. "Was it the mercenaries? Did they torture you, Merlin? I swear I'll track them all down," the anger in his voice was evident.

"No, no," Merlin wanted to assuage the Prince, though he wasn't sure how Arthur would react to finding that Morgana was his captor. "Actually, er, Morgana found me and patched me up."

Silence.

Arthur stared at Merlin, bug-eyed, "Morgana?" He looked at Merlin questioningly. "Morgana my sister?" he repeated again.

"I know, Arthur. She was the last person I expected to see, but she saved me, she really did."

"_Morgana_ saved _you_?" Arthur could still barely believe his ears.

"Well… yes. She saved me, healed me, fed me, and gave me a horse."

"And what did she want from you? What did she do to you?"

"I think she just wanted to talk."

Arthur leaned back into his chair, contemplating this new information.

"What did you talk about?"

And so Merlin recounted the conversation to Arthur. "She seemed conflicted, Arthur, and sad. I don't know what happened, but the old Morgana is still there."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Arthur picked up the conversation. "You know Merlin, I haven't told anyone this, but I saw Morgana too. Do you remember when the circus troupe assassin stabbed by father?"

"Yes, I remember," Merlin answered, knowing where Arthur was going with this.

"Dragoon didn't heal him— Morgana did."

* * *

Agravaine had returned to Camelot to find that Arthur had indeed banished the serving girl but that surprisingly his manservant had returned in one piece. Normally, Agravaine would have relished in his small victory— after all, Gwen's strong influence on Arthur was something that needed to stop in order to destroy the young prince— but Agravaine was still too frustrated by his lack of success in bringing back Tristan.

Still, he had held onto the crystal, not sure what to do with it and holding onto the small chance that he would eventually somehow be able to bring back his brother.

Agravaine sat in his chambers, stewing, when he heard a knock at his door. "Come in," he called out, thinking it was a servant bringing him refreshment.

"Hullo ser, this is for you," a boy, much too young to be employed as a servant walked into Agravaine's room, pushing an envelope into Agravaine's hands.

"What is this?" Agravaine questioned, surprised at the boy's lack of mannerisms, but the boy had surreptitiously slipped out of Agravaine's chambers.

_Odd, rude boy. _ Agravaine was about to stuff the envelope into his pocket and find an actual servant to bring him a meal until he saw the wax seal— it was Tristan's seal, his crest, an image of a Phoenix.

Agravaine quickly ripped open the envelope, anxious to read its contents.

_My little brother,_

_You have made the House of de Bois proud. I have much to tell you and I am sorry I am unable to do so in person. You have done well, and we will soon be reunited._

_I must be brief, but I will start at the beginning. I heard your call at the Pool of Nemhain, and when I answered it I found myself engulfed by darkness before waking up by our old home. You remember Hector? He was Father's most trusted servant. He is a wretched old man now— all skin and bones— but he found me and brought me inside our estate. The ruin of our House is greater than I have imagined. Our fields have been neglected and what servants that remain on our estate are all pitiful. How could the Pendragons not have helped you maintain our lands? _

_I have spent the past week making preparations. We need an army, better yet two, and I have just the men in mind who can supply us. _

_I have enclosed a gift for you. It is a locket for your crystal. We will have many enemies in the coming days and you must keep the crystal safe. It is made of the strongest steel and enchanted by a sorcerer. Only those with magic will be able to open the locket, and we both know the Pendragons are lacking in friends with magic._

_I cannot see you yet little brother, but very soon I will call for you to join me. We will kill Uther— and then Arthur. We will see Camelot burn. _

_Until then, stay in Arthur's inner circle and keep me updated of any of his plans. Send your letters with the boy— Blaine I believe his name is. He is Hector's nephew and runs small errands for the stable hands. He can be trusted to deliver our letters discreetly. _

_Tristan_

Agravaine could not believe his eyes. He read the letter again, his heart filling with joy now that his brother had returned to the world of the living. He looked in the envelope and lo and behold there was a small locket. It was engraved with Tristan's crest and when Agravaine placed the crystal within the locket it automatically snapped shut. No matter how much Agravaine fumbled with the locket he could not open it.

Agravaine felt empowered, and quickly snatched a sheet of parchment from his desk to compose a letter back to his brother.

_Dear Brother,_

_How good it is to receive word from you. I had thought the old witch had tricked me and that you would never return to this world. _

_Uther is old and weak. He has locked himself up in his chambers and can easily be disposed of. It would be best if we could ambush Arthur when he outside of Camelot, on a patrol or during one of his hunts, but I fear we may have to engage in a war with Camelot to rid ourselves of him. _

_Of upmost importance though, is a sorcerer named Emrys. The witch Morgana, who is Uther's bastard daughter, has foreseen my doom at his hands. I know not who he is, but he is dangerous. We must find out who he is and kill him before attacking Arthur. I believe the old physician Gaius knows the true identity of Emrys. _

_I await to hear from you._

_Agravaine_

**A/N: No Morgana in this one, but she'll be back next chapter! Thanks for reading and please drop me a review if you'd like :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I can't believe it's already December, where does the time go?! I'm so excited for this week's episode of Merlin. I'm also pretending Morgana is still secretly good in the TV series and doesn't want to kill Merlin…and not horribly incompetent in her multiple attempts to get rid of him. **

**I figure it was about time to write Gwen a proper scene, so a lot of talking in this chapter but I'm so excited for the next few chapters ahead. Lots and lots of action to come next week, but I'll stop blabbing now!**

**Much love to all my continued and new followers. You guys are still the best! Thanks also for the new favs and the lovely reviews from Sacred3, Kianix (Uther will make an appearance soon), Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714 (Thanks! My feelings exactly! It's a shame the series never got a chance to delve into Morgana and Uther's relationship more post-betrayal), IndiaMoore (Thanks so much!), LadyDunla, Kreeger (we can only wish!), and Olive. **

**Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to BBC still (Does anyone know if Seasons 6 is happening?! If so, any guesses on how they're writing off Gwaine since he's signed up for an American pilot?)**

Merlin's first night back was a long one. Arthur had told Merlin about Morgana's surprise appearance in Camelot and the two of them pondered what her actions meant, if anything.

"I bear no ill-will against her, Merlin. I would forgive her in a heartbeat if only I knew what she was thinking. We were family— even before I knew we shared the same blood." Arthur had sighed.

Merlin loved that Arthur was always willing to have faith in others, but without losing sight of the facts before him. "I hope she has changed too, but neither one of us can know for certain right now."

He thought it was so ironic. Just a few hours before, Kilgharrah had been trying to convince him that he shouldn't get his hopes up about Morgana, and he was now doing the same to Arthur. It wasn't that he didn't believe Morgana was changing— he just couldn't let her back into Arthur's life without knowing for certain that she didn't pose a threat.

"My father wants me to find her, Merlin. He thinks I can _fix _her, that if I can find a way to take away her magic that it'll bring back the old Morgana."

"With all due respect, Sire, I'm not sure if that's the best plan," Merlin answered, not wanting to go against the plans of the King, but knowing that Uther would never understand magic.

"I know_ that_ Merlin. But do you want to be the one to tell that to the King?" Arthur looked at Merlin skeptically. "What can I do? Sometimes I just feel like it's too late. It kills me to think that I could have stopped her Merlin. I mean I should have known there was something different with her— I should have been there to figure it out. And what was I doing instead? Going on quests to prove I am worthy of a throne and chasing a girl who doesn't even love me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Arthur. We all wish we could have helped her, but she's chosen her own path since then. It won't do us well to dwell on the past."

"You're right Merlin. It's just that we spent so much time looking for her. Do you remember? And it didn't even matter, because by the time she returned to us, we had already lost her. If there's any chance at all, shouldn't I try to bring her back?" Arthur remembered all too well the rush of relief he felt when Morgana first returned to Camelot, but also the anguish when he realized she had been plotting against their home the entire time. "She was lost to me then, but I was too blind to see it, but now that I understand her a little bit better is it foolish of me to want to search for her again?"

* * *

Morgana was learning so much from Alator. They had fallen into a routine, with her lessons starting after his morning prayers and ending only when the sun set. It was her choice— she was a voracious learner and Alator was glad to have such an eager student. Still, the hours they spent in his tower left her restless and exploring the town outside his home was not enough.

Alator decided he trusted Morgana enough to send her in his stead to collect some herbs from an outside village. It would be the perfect excuse to let her explore the lands.

"Why don't you put that glamour spell you learned yesterday to good use and run an errand for me," Alator suggested.

Morgana's eyes lit up at the suggestion and she walked over to Alator. He pulled out a map from one of his bookshelves and rolled it open.

"You see this village?" he pointed to a small village near the border of the kingdoms of Camelot and Caerleon, "An old friend of mine lives there and she runs a small medicinal shop."

He procured five twine bracelets and a small bag of coins from the pockets of his robe. "Her name is Grace. Give these to her and then tell her you're there to pick up my usual order— five satchels of apple blossoms and ten satchels of aconite."

Morgana nodded in acknowledgement.

"She's a warm and cheerful woman, and she'll probably ask you to stay for lunch, so don't feel the need to rush too much," Alator encouraged. "But listen carefully," he was serious again, "you must not let anyone see your true identity. It is of the upmost important that you make sure no one follows you back home. You can release the spell once you're in Grace's shop, but be careful not to be seen traveling without your disguise."

"I understand," she answered, and she truly did. She still thought it would be much easier to use her magic to knock out those who got in her way, but she didn't want to cause any trouble for Alator when she knew how long it had taken him to find his safe haven.

"Good" he smiled again, one of his rare smiles. "You leave at dawn tomorrow. I'll make sure a horse is prepared for you. I expect your return by nightfall."

* * *

Gwen had never known life outside of Camelot, and when Arthur exiled her she had no idea where she would go. She didn't care really— her heart hurt too much for her to think about any future without Arthur. But she had to be practical, and as she was packing up the few belongings left in her house, she thought about where she might go.

At first she thought she might travel to Ealdor— it was a lovely little town and she was sure Merlin's mother would welcome her with open arms. But Gwen decided she was too ashamed to tell her friend's mother about her disgraceful actions and was not deserving of any friendship, or any reprieve, Hunith would offer her. And so, Gwen traveled west, settling for the first town that would accept her.

It didn't take long for Gwen to become acclimated to her new life. If nothing else she was good at adapting and making the most of any situation. She had settled into a small village just outside the Western borders of Camelot, not wanting to be too far from her former home, and spent her days taking care of an elderly farmer's pigs.

_What a dull existence, but I suppose I deserve no happiness after what I've done to Arthur. _

Gwen tried to come to terms with her new life, but there was a part of her that wouldn't let her accept the situation. No matter how much she thought about it, Gwen could never tell herself why she had kissed Lancelot when her heart belonged to Arthur.

Gwen was still friendly— smiling at her new neighbors and offering to run errands for the Acton, the old farmer she worked for. But her smile belied the unhappiness she felt, which was only exacerbated by the time on her hands to think about all she had lost.

Everyone in town was friendly to her too— that was just how small villages worked— but no one befriended her and no one imagined that the new lass in town was the former love of the great Arthur Pendragon.

So Gwen existed like this, filling her days with mundane work and spending her nights twirling the promise ring Arthur had given her until she drifted into restless sleep. That is, until the day the old farmer if she would be so kind as to pick up his back medication.

Naturally, Gwen acquiesced, and after she had brought her pigs some fresh hay, she washed her hands and set out to pick up the farmer's medicine.

The store was very small— it was more of a hut than anything. Gwen had heard from the farmer that the lady who ran the shop only stayed for three weeks at a time, hence why the store was so small and so close to the edge of the village. Gwen was met at the door by a bubbly old lady, who was rather short but fit, and wore two sets of glasses— one pair on her head, one pair around her neck, and none on her face.

"You must be Guinevere!" she exclaimed, grabbing Gwen's hand and shaking it furiously, "welcome to my shop, my name is Grace! Please come in." She pulled the young girl hand and shut the door behind her.

For the first time since her arrival to the village, Gwen flashed a genuine smile. "Oh, why thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you, Grace. I'm here to pick up Acton's medication."

"Yes yes, I have it back here somewhere— why don't you have a seat while I go find it," Grace motioned to a small table near the window of her store, and with the blink of an eye, she had disappeared to the back part of her store.

Gwen made herself comfortable in her chair, amused by the sprightly old woman, and wondering how Grace knew who she was before any introduction.

She didn't have long to think though, as Grace reemerged to the main part of her store with a small paper bag. "Here is Acton's poultice— tell him to apply it daily for a week and to let me know immediately if his back still hurts after that," she instructed, "I'll be leaving in exactly 12 days, so be sure to have him stop in before then if there's still a problem."

"I definitely will," Gwen affirmed, taking the bag from Grace and getting ready to leave. "Well thank you so much Grace, I will be sure-"

She was cut off by the older lady. "Wait wait wait! I have something for you too!"

"For me?" Gwen was confused, "I assure you I'm feeling quite well."

Grace clucked her disapproval. "Now now my dear, I treat more than ailments of the body." She pulled Gwen's hand out and dropped a little clay heart in her palm. It was about the size of a maple leaf, and was a deep earthy color with pieces of dried rose petals mixed in. "Put this near your bed. It'll help ease your heartache," she instructed firmly.

Gwen was taken aback. It was curious that the old lady had known her name but even stranger that she knew of her heartbreak. But before Gwen could ask any more questions, Grace had pushed her out of the shop and locked the door.

Gwen stood outside the shop— clay heart in one hand and paper bag in the other. It was all too strange for her liking, but she decided she'd just go home for the day. Acton must be waiting anxiously for his poultice. She could always come back tomorrow.

But as Gwen walked away from the shop, she heard Grace's voice shouting from behind out.

"Yoo hoo!" The old lady had opened a window and stuck her head out. "Do come back for lunch tomorrow! And let me know if your heart feels better!" With that, she shut the window again, leaving Gwen even more baffled but chuckling to herself.

* * *

Morgana rather liked glamour spells. They created the perfect disguise and was a lot more comfortable than aging spells. Still, she preferred travelling without any disguises and was more than happy to release the spell once she met Grace.

Grace was a nice old lady— and she sure was old—but she carried herself in a manner that made her feel not a day past twelve. She wore a simple white tunic that looked freshly pressed but leather boots with little blue ribbons on the sides. Yes, she was a nice lady, but so very different from Alator that Morgana wondered how the two ever became friends.

Morgana had conveyed Alator's request to Grace and handed over the bracelets and coins.

"Oh Alator, he shouldn't have!" Grace smiled widely, "Please give him my thanks for these bracelets. They always bring me good luck." She winked. "Now why don't you rest a little? I just made a new pot of tea, and I've got some fresh sandwiches and scones in my icebox." She ushered Morgana to the table.

Grace rushed to and from the back of her little store, setting the table and bringing out a warm pot of tea.

"Are you expecting more company?" Morgana inquired, seeing three sets of tableware laid out.

"I do hope so," was the old lady's cryptic response.

Morgana gave her new acquaintance a crooked smile, "Let me help you then. What can I do?"

"Thank you very much dearie. Why don't you go out back and fetch a plate of sandwiches, then grab a basket to fill with scones from my kitchen. I'll go make some fresh satchels of apple blossoms for Alator." And with no further direction, Grace had popped out of her shop.

* * *

Grace was strolling down the main road of the village, headed to her little garden in the forest to collect some fresh herbs for Alator's order when she passed upon Gwen.

"Hello there, dearie." She waved.

"Hello Grace," Gwen greeted in response, "I was just heading up to see you actually."

"What perfect timing then! I just need to collect a few things and I'll be back in my shop. Why don't you head over there now? I have a friend preparing lunch for us three!"

"Oh, well, alright then. Thank you very much," Gwen smiled warmly.

Gwen arrived at Grace's shop shortly, and seeing the set table, took a seat, waiting for Grace's return and to meet her friend.

In the other room, Morgana had plated Grace's sandwiches and scones and was walking back to the main area of the shop. She had heard the door open.

"Here we go, Grace," she called out, walking through the curtain to the storefront.

But instead of Grace, she came face to face with Gwen.

It wasn't that Morgana didn't like Gwen. They had grown up together and Gwen had always been more of a friend than a servant. Morgana had genuinely cared about her, and Gwen had been loyal and kind in return. If anything, Morgana had just stopped understanding Gwen.

She thought if anyone, Gwen would hate Uther. He had unjustly ordered the execution of her father and accused her of witchcraft on more than one occasion. Of course it was Morgana's own fault that Uther had accused the girl of witchcraft once— but still. However, Gwen seemed to harbor no ill feelings toward the King, and Morgana had even heard rumors that she had been taking care of Uther in his weakened state.

Gwen was simple and straightforward, never wavering in her steadfast goodness, and while she used to admire that, Morgana found herself irritated by the girl's good-natured acceptance of everything. Morgana didn't understand how Gwen could swallow the injustices Uther had dealt upon her.

She never expected to see Gwen again, much less here of all places.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Morgana questioned, dropping the scones and sandwiches on the table with a loud clatter.

Gwen shirked into her chair at the sound of the plate hitting the table. She bewildered that Morgana seemed to be Grace's other lunch guest and was very aware of the danger she posed. "I could ask the same of you. I was invited her for lunch," she responded as evenly as she could manage.

"Really?" Morgana raised an eyebrow. "And what brings you all the way from Camelot to have lunch in this little hut in Caerleon's kingdom?" Morgana eyed Gwen's appearance. Clearly the girl wasn't just passing through town. Her boots were mucked up, her hair was frizzy and carelessly tied back. It looked as if she had just finished morning chores.

"That is none of your concern," Gwen glared. "Why are you here Morgana? Leave this village alone."

"Now Gwen, that's no way to greet an old friend. I have no intention of harming this village," Morgana frowned.

"We're not friends, Morgana, not after all you've done." Gwen moved to get out of her seat, meaning to get as far away from Morgana as possible.

"_Sit, _Gwen." Morgana looked at Gwen warningly, and Gwen sank back into her seat, afraid that Morgana might use her magic. "Good girl, now why don't you tell me what I've missed so far in Camelot. How's my father? I hear you've been taking care of him?" Morgana's tone had come out more menacingly than she expected, but she found it was much too easy to slip into her old role as the villainous witch.

"What do you want to hear, Morgana? I was taking care of him the best I could, but you've broken him. There's nothing anyone can do for him anymore." Gwen answered.

"You of all people should be happy he's broken, Gwen. Or have you forgotten that Uther was the one that left you orphaned?"

"Of course I haven't forgotten," Gwen answered in a small voice, "I don't _like_ Uther. How could I? But what good will come from hating him?" she countered, "I do not revel in his pain. I do not wish him dead."

"Why not? An eye for an eye, no?"

"I would be no better than him if I tried to kill him for taking away my father. And what would come from that, Morgana? My father would still be dead and Arthur would be devastated."

"You would stop him from causing the same harm to other families. His death would usher in a new era for Camelot."

"It would break Arthur, and you know that, but clearly you don't seem to care anymore."

"Don't speak of things you know nothing about," Morgana hissed, "Arthur would have been a wiser and better king than Uther could ever hope to be, but he is following our father's path instead of carving out his own."

"And what have you done, Morgana? Open your eyes to the destruction you've caused. If anyone is following Uther's path, it's you."

Morgana winced at that, knowing that she had ruthlessly trampled over many innocent lives in her quest to bring down Uther. She knew Gorlois would have never approved of her actions, and it pained her to admit that some of her more callous tactics were akin to the sort of actions Uther would take against his enemies.

But even knowing that, it was still hard for Morgana to completely abandon her quest for revenge against Uther. Forgiveness came much easier to Gwen than to her, and she was slightly envious that Gwen could harness her emotions toward Uther in such a harmless manner.

Morgana sighed, "You're right, Gwen." She could not deny that somehow she had become more and more like the man she hated. Morgana sank down into the chair next to her former friend, pouring a cup of tea and holding it out. "Some tea?" she offered.

Gwen wasn't sure if she was more perplexed that Morgana agreed with her statement or by Morgana's offering of tea. "Thank you." She reached out hesitantly to take the cup.

Gwen looked into her cup, and then looked up at Morgana, tilting her head. "Morgana, why are you here, really?"

Morgana supposed she ought to give Gwen an answer since she had been bombarding the girl with so many questions. "I am picking up some herbs for a friend. What are you doing here?"

Gwen wasn't quite sure how to answer that question. She wondered how much she should tell Morgana, but figured there would be no harm in telling her the truth at this point. "I've been exiled from Camelot, and this was the first village where I could find work," she admitted.

"You? Exiled? What for?" Morgana asked, not believing that Arthur would ever let Gwen be banished from the kingdom.

"I betrayed him," Gwen answered, biting her lip. "There was another man, Sir Lancelot…I don't know why… I…I…"

Morgana instinctively reached out her hand and placed it over Gwen's, offering what she hoped was a semblance of kind smile, and Gwen surprised herself by not pulling away.

* * *

Grace returned just in time to find the two young women sitting silently at the table, nibbling at scones. She was pleasantly surprised that their reunion had gone altogether rather smoothly.

"Hello dearies, I see you've started dining," she greeted. "I have what your mentor asked for." She held up a small bag with the satchels of herbs Alator requested.

Morgana smiled gratefully, taking the bag and placing it in her knapsack. Gwen stood up to help Grace take off her coat, and Morgana pulled out a chair at the table for the elderly woman to sit down.

"My, my, what two gracious young ladies." She took a seat. "Please, let's all eat now."

They all sat, each taking a sandwich. Neither Morgana nor Gwen knew what to say and Grace seemed perfectly content without starting any conversation.

It was Gwen who finally decided to break the silence. "Grace" she started, deciding it was safer not to start a conversation with Morgana. "How did you know my name before we met?" she asked, remembering the original reason for her visit.

"I Saw you coming," Grace answered simply.

"Yes, but you knew who I was with no introduction."

"Oh, well, I used to sell my poultices at the market in Camelot."

"But have we ever met there?" Gwen didn't recall ever seeing Grace at the market.

"Oh, who knows where we met." Grace skirted the question. "Now, how did you sleep last night," she asked instead.

Gwen figured she would never get a straight answer from this woman. "It was the best night's rest I've had since I've been here. Thank you so much for that. How did you do it?"

"The clay is from the banks of the Lake of Avalon, and the rose petals were blessed by yours truly," she winked.

Morgana suspected Grace had some sort of magic. She was Alator's old friend, and it seemed as if she had blessed some sort of talisman for Gwen. She was suddenly curious to find out more about this cheery old woman.

"Grace," Morgana interjected, "Where are you from? Why do you travel the kingdoms selling medicine? Ala— my friend—," she corrected herself, no wanting to reveal Alator's name in front of Gwen, "—didn't tell me much."

"Good of him. He knows I like my secrecy as much as he enjoys his," Grace chuckled, "But I suppose I can tell you two lovely girls."

Gwen and Morgana were all ears.

"I was born in Daobeth, not too far from Camelot. I'll spare you the boring details. It'll probably interest you to know I was a twin. We were both seers— neither of us particularly gifted— but even the smallest gift of Sight was a gift indeed."

Grace's powers didn't come as a surprise to Morgana, but this was the first time that Gwen had met a Seer. Gwen's time in Camelot made her wary of any hint of magic, but Grace was such a _nice_, _old_ lady, that she didn't feel as if she was in danger. Not to mention, Morgana was still there. If anyone was a danger, it was definitely Morgana.

"We moved to the heart of Camelot, where magic once flourished, and for a few years life was just lovely before it all went to hell. I'm sure you've heard similar stories. The Great Purge came and King Uther's men killed my sister. It seemed like when I lost her I lost my ability to See as well."

Both of the younger women were all too familiar with Uther's methods.

"Making small remedies was my only other skill, and I just never felt right settling down anywhere. No matter where I went, it never felt like home once I lost my sister."

"I'm so sorry," Morgana murmured, and Gwen reached out to pat the old woman's hand.

"It's all ancient history. I'm doing what I love and I'm alive and healthy. There's not much more someone like me could ask for," she assured the two distraught looking ladies, "Plus, occasionally, I still do get a vision to two. I'd like to think they are sent by my sister. They usually come to keep me away from danger and they let me know when I have two important visitors coming my way," she grinned slyly. "Well now, I have to make a house call. Please do stay and enjoy some more tea. Feel free to let yourselves out whenever you are ready. It was delightful meeting you, Morgana. Please tell your friend that he can find me in Gawant next month, and Gwen, please do come back to visit me."And with that, Grace grabbed a basketful of herbs from the counter and headed out once again.

Neither knew what to say to the other after Grace's departure. Whatever had transpired before was the illusion of friendship, nothing more. Morgana refilled both their cups with tea and avoided all eye contact.

The minutes dragged on, and Morgana had decided she might as well head back to Alator. She had gotten what she had come for after all. Morgana stood up, and saw Gwen visibly tense up at her sudden movement. She grabbed her knapsack and headed toward the door, still refusing to look at her former maid.

Morgana was all but out the door when she decided she should say something, anything, to Gwen before leaving.

"Um, Gwen," she started, still facing the door, "Whatever it is you've done, I'm sure you don't deserve to be exiled. Arthur will come to forgive you."

And with that, Morgana muttered a spell to disguise herself and left Grace's little shop for Alator's tower.

Gwen was speechless, and watched Morgana leave without exchanging any further words. Oddly, Morgana's last words left Gwen felt happier than she had since her exile.

* * *

Merlin found himself thinking about Morgana quite a bit after his conversation with Arthur— too much for his own liking.

He would never forget the Great Dragon's words. _Two sides of the same coin. Darkness to light, hatred to love. _Merlin poured over those words constantly. It was true they were different. She had always been firm in her beliefs and never wavered in defending what she believed was right, and he was the opposite— always careful and unsure of the path he should take in order to fulfill his destiny. He used to admire that she was the opposite of him though. Merlin loved the way she would speak her mind to Uther, even when she knew the King would lash out against her for her opinions. He hated to admit it, but there were times when no one, not even Arthur, stood up to Uther's unjust proclamations, save for Morgana. There were times where Merlin felt so frustrated that everyone could see that Uther's actions were wrong but they were all too afraid to say anything. He was secretly ashamed that instead of using his magic to immediately help those Uther persecuted, he had to bide his time for the sake of his destiny.

It was thoughts like these that made Merlin want to stop thinking about Morgana. It was so much easier to hate her and label her as a traitor with no remorse. He willed himself to think of the damage she had done, but ended up only finding excuses for her. _I forgave Kilgharrah for the destruction he caused when I released him from his shackles. Surely I can do the same for Morgana? _

But he was still angry with her. He couldn't easily forget all the times she sneered in his face and treated him like he was worthless. He had begged her to stop, to remember the friends she had in Camelot, but she hadn't cared. There was nothing more important to her than destroying Camelot. Merlin remembered those times all too well. On more than one occasion, there was nothing he would have liked more than to reveal his magic and teach her a lesson or two, wipe that awful smirk off her pretty little face.

So back and forth he went, so unsure of what to do with the enigmatic sorceress.

Merlin liked it better when things were simple. He was just the new serving boy to an idiot prince, and she was just the King's ward, an untouchable beauty on a pedestal. He, like countless others, would admire her from afar, carry a schoolboy's crush, but carry on with his daily routines, and she would fulfill her role as the dutiful lady of Camelot. There were no conflicts of interest, no magical destinies set in stone or important future to protect. That memory was so distant he could hardly believe it was but a few short years ago.

She plagued his thoughts. He knew Arthur was willing to do whatever it took to bring the old Morgana back, he just never realized he was willing to go to such great lengths as well. Arthur was good at the saving damsels in distress business— Merlin was happy with his behind-the-scenes support— but Morgana was no damsel in distress. Merlin felt the urge to step up to the task of bringing her home. _Kilgharrah's right: we are two sides of the same coin. I understand her better than anyone else ever could, and I won't make the same mistake again. I should have been there for her when she found out about her magic. I won't abandon her again, not when there's still a chance left. _In the back of his mind he could hear the Great Dragon's voice reprimanding him, reminding him of all those times he would have been better off if he had just listened, but Merlin had made up his mind. _What's the point of seeing the good in people if I can't help them? _

She was bold and impulsive and had brought much harm upon Camelot, but even so, the goodness in her wasn't lost.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Still no M/M interaction this chapter, but they'll find each other soon. Leave me a review? **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Happy Friday guys! I've been living in a bubble of work and busyness with this semester ending in a week or so, so thanks everyone for informing me that this is the last season **

**I really appreciate all the ongoing support from you guys. Extra thanks to my awesome reviewers from the last chapter: Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, SunnySmile2413, LadyDunla, meee18, Sacred 3, Insanetrouble, Kianix, Craving Oxygen, Jedimasterawesome, Tinkerbell90, mergana1, and Olive.**

**Also, is it just me or is anyone else really curious about Aithusa's development (why hasn't the Great Dragon been watching over her?! Why hasn't Merlin talked to the Great Dragon about this yet?!) Hopefully that'll get addressed before the end! I'm really concerned about Alator this week and I kind of hope Merlin warms up to Mordred (though I may regret saying that depending on how things unfold).**

**Anyway, I literally just got off the longest train ride ever coming back from an interview, but I wanted to get this posted! Hope you guys enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I am much too exhausted right now to fight BBC for Merlin. **

It wasn't long before Alator had another task for Morgana. He trusted her completely now and her powers had grown considerably under his tutelage. One evening, a few days after Morgana's meeting with Gwen, he came to her room with a new request.

"Good evening, Lady Morgana," he greeted. "There is something rather important I'd like to ask you to handle."

"Of course, what is it?" she responded, putting down the book she was reading and giving Alator her full attention.

"There have been sightings of a lamia around the village of Longstead in the Fiore Mountains. It has made the villagers sick, and a healer in the area has asked for my help in stopping her."

Morgana nodded. She had learned about lamia in her lessons with Alator, but had never seen one in person.

"I have already promised to meet someone in the White Mountains for a job request, but I have every confidence that you will be able to stop the lamia." He looked at her gravely, silently communicating that he would understand if she refused his request.

"Leave it to me, Alator. I will take care of it," she reassured him, eager to put her magic to practical use and happy to help her mentor.

"Now, its powers will have no effect on you, but it may have influenced those around it to assist it. Try not to harm anyone the lamia has manipulated into helping it," he cautioned, "You know that lamia were created by the High Priestesses, so depending on the strength of this particular lamia, you may be able to command it into submission. However, it is more likely that you will have to end its life in order to stop it."

"I understand. But isn't Longstead in Camelot? Should I travel in disguise?"

"It is but a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom. The lamia will most likely be in the surrounding forests, so don't waste your energy disguising yourself during the hunt. Just make sure you are in disguise when travelling back home," he advised. "I doubt anyone in Camelot Castle has heard of the trouble yet."

Morgana scoffed derisively, not surprised that Camelot hadn't come to the rescue of the small village yet. "I'm sure I'll have no problem getting there and back undetected. The Knights of Camelot are never deployed to outlying villages."

"Good. My friend in the village is named Dylan. He is the local healer, but he does not have the ingredients for the remedy to the lamia's kiss. We will brew the remedy tonight and you can set out in the morning."

Morgana nodded again, excited and nervous to start her new journey.

"Do be careful though, my lady. Trust your instincts and do not hesitate to kill the lamia." Alator felt a little uneasy about sending his young student on such a dangerous mission, but it could not be helped. The village of Longstead needed magical assistance and Alator could not afford to miss his meeting.

* * *

Agravaine _knew_ Gaius had some information about Emrys. He _had _to— the man was practically as old as a dragon, and he was known to have dabbled in magic before the Purge. It was merely a matter of forcing that information out of him. After a strenuous amount of searching and paying off messengers, he finally arranged a meeting with The Catha, a man known for his methods of mental torture to extract information. The Priest had refused to meet him, sending word through his messengers that there was nothing Agravaine could offer him, but Agravaine had promised to turn a blind eye to the movements of a druid camp currently hiding in the Valley of the Fallen Kings while they travelled to the Forest of Ascetir. And so, begrudgingly, Alator had sent word that he would meet with Agravaine to hear his request. They were to meet in the White Mountains, and Agravaine had been warned to come alone.

As promised, Agravaine found The Catha and a bulky man he assumed was a bodyguard at the foot of the White Mountains.

"You are Alator of the Catha, Priest of the Old Religion?" he asked, wanting to confirm his identity.

"You are Lord Agravaine de Bois, uncle to Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot." Alator stated flatly, ignoring Agravaine's question. "What do you seek from me?"

"I need you to abduct someone. From Camelot."

"Camelot is no friend to my kind. From what I hear, the young prince follows Uther's ways. Why should I risk my life for you?"

"You are a Catha. This task is of no challenge to you. Name your price; I will do whatever it is you want."

Alator considered the request. "I will not find the information you need from this Gaius until I hear news of the druids' safe passage to Essetir. There is also something from the royal library you must procure for me— Uther Pendragon's records of the Great Purge. I will perform this task for you under those conditions."

"We have ourselves a deal then," Agravaine grinned. "I will send you further instructions."

* * *

Merlin was proud of Arthur. Sure he was still a prat who couldn't seem to dress or draw a bath by himself, but otherwise, he was shaping into a great ruler. A villager from the distant town of Longstead had found her way to the Castle the other day, begging for an audience with Arthur or Uther. Arthur had a full day of meetings and evening patrol with his knights, but he had told Merlin to forget about lunch— he was going to hear the villager's request.

Therein laid the difference between Uther and Arthur— every person in the kingdom was important to Arthur, no matter how small or far their village lied. Merlin was sure that Uther would have just sent the villager away, telling one of his guards that any audience with the King needed to be arranged through the proper channels.

Of course Merlin didn't realize the outcome of his meeting with the villager, a kind-looking lady named Mary Howden, meant that Merlin would be sent all the way to Longstead to cure a strange disease that was plaguing the village. Gaius had his hands full with a recent outbreak of the sweating sickness and suggested that Merlin be sent in his place.

"He has a knowledge of the healing arts. If the diagnosis is straightforward, he can prescribe a remedy, I'm sure," Gaius insisted.

Arthur was dubious, "And what if it isn't?"

"Then he can bring his findings to me," Gaius suggested simply.

"'Findings?' Merlin can't find his own backside most of the time," the young prince answered incredulously.

Gaius cracked a small smile. "I think he's capable of much fore then you imagine, Sire."

And that was how Merlin found himself in the distant village of Lonstead, accompanied by Leon, Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival.

The sickness was worse than he had imagined, and Merlin suspected there was sorcery at play. He had applied poultice of betulial and a tincture of belladonna to stimulate blood flow to the heart on one of the affected men, Aldref, but there had been no changes. Merlin had no idea what could have caused such a persistent ailment, and even his healing spell had no effect.

"I'm afraid the treatments have had no effect," Merlin gravely reported to the village elder, emerging from Aldref's home.

"You mean they're dying."

"I'm sorry. There's something at work here that I don't understand."

"Are you suggesting sorcery?"

"That's… possible, yes."

"I feared as much," the elder sighed, "The other night, when I found Aldref, I felt a… a presence. An evil in the air."

Merlin turned to the knights standing by the door, "We need to get back to Gaius. Only he can explain this."

After realizing there was truly nothing Merlin could do for the village, the knights quickly prepared the horses, and soon they were all back on the road to Camelot. What was supposed to be a smooth trip back to the citadel ended when they stumbled upon a bandit camp.

"Bandits." Leon had been the first one to notice. "Dismount and muzzle your horses. Not a sound, any of you. We'll skirt their camp. With any lucky, we'll reach the plain unnoticed."

The plan was going quite well until Gwaine realized the bandits were holding a girl hostage. Always the hero, Gwaine decided to discard sneaking past the camp and rescue the poor girl.

Gwaine drew his sword, preferring to let his swordsmanship do the talking, and charged the camp. The rest of the knights then quickly followed suit.

They dispatched the bandits quickly with Percival easily knocking out three bandits at a time and Merlin himself had made use of a little magic trick to take down a charging bandit.

"Hey. Hey, it's all right. It's all right now." Percival had been the first one to reach the girl. "We're knights of Camelot. You're safe now."

They all crowded around her, wanting to make sure she okay. Elyan reached over, untying the ropes that held the girl's hands together. "My name's Elyan. What's yours?"

"Lamia," the girl answered, squirming under the gaze of so many newcomers. "My name is Lamia."

Merlin didn't know it at that time, but they would never make it back to Gaius that day.

* * *

Morgana had made it to Longstead in good time. She had met Dylan on the outskirts of the village, handing him the antidote and assuring him that she would find the lamia.

"Thank you, my lady," Dylan bowed deeply, "It is good to have a High Priestess among us again."

Morgana smiled, touched by his appreciation, and dipped her head slightly in acknowledgement before mounting her horse in search of the offending creature.

She was worried about how she would combat the lamia, but just finding the actual creature proved harder than she imagined. She had been following a trail only to find a small camp of dead Southrons. The men had clearly captured the lamia without knowing the power it possessed. _Serves them right._ Morgana felt no sorrow for the deceased slave traders— even if they were transporting dark creatures like the lamia.

Leading away from the site were a few sets of horse tracks. _How strange. Perhaps another group of mercenaries stumbled upon the lamia? _Morgana couldn't think of any other explanation. No villager would be daring enough to enter these woods, but she couldn't think of any other large groups on horseback in the area either. It was of no great importance though, and she continued to follow the tracks.

The remnants of small campfires helped reassure Morgana that she was following the right path. Whoever had the lamia was traveling very slowly. She would catch up with them soon, and she spurred her horse on.

A few short hours later, Morgana had traveled to a part of the forest where the trees were thinning out. She soon found herself at the edge of the forestry, outside an abandoned castle. The trail stopped there and she dismounted her horse to take a closer look. She walked toward the castle but quickly hid behind a tree when she heard sound of movement. _Calm yourself, Morgana. You can do this. _Slowly, Morgana turned her head to take a look in the direction of the noise. Through the branches, she could see a few horses tied out outside what looked like the entrance of the ruined castle.

She approached the horses, looking around to make sure their owners were nowhere to be found. Morgana examined the bridle of one of the mares, touching the intricate silver designs on the straps.

_Knights of Camelot._ The crimson and gold saddle blankets the horses were outfitted with confirmed her belief. Morgana did not like this new development. She hadn't planned on encountering any knights. She counted the number of horses tied outside— there were only five. It would be no problem, she decided. She still had her magic. It would be enough to fight off a small patrol if she had to. She only hoped the lamia hadn't poisoned their minds. Morgana had no desire to fight off the creature and her personal guards at the same time.

There was no other way to go but forward now, and Morgana mentally readied herself for the dangers within the dilapidated castle before taking her first step inside.

"Leoht." Morgana conjured a small sphere of light on her hand to guide her through the dark corridors and started exploring for clues.

* * *

Arthur knew something was wrong. It had been two days since he sent Merlin and the knights to Longstead. They should have been back by now, or at least have sent word of a delay.

"Sir Bors," he called one of his knights to his side. "Ready a patrol of six. I plan to ride for Longstead in the morrow."

Arthur's gut told him something bad had happened, and wouldn't let himself sit idly while his men could be in trouble.

With Sir Bors readying a patrol, Arthur walked to Gaius' chambers. "Gaius?" He knocked on the old physician's door.

"Yes, Sire?" Gaius opened the door, welcoming the prince into his chambers.

"Is your work done here?"

"Yes, Sire. I am satisfied to report that the sweating sickness is all but passed."

"Then we leave for Longstead at first light."

* * *

It didn't take long for Merlin to realize that Lamia had a sinister effect on the knights. They had started acting differently the moment they found her, and he was sure she had used some sort of magic. Most likely she was the cause of the sickness in Longstead. The knights had turned hostile, fighting with each other over who could take care of Lamia, and had ignored his repeated pleas for them to return to Camelot.

She had gotten to Elyan while they were sleeping, and he soon had the same symptoms as the villagers. But even that was not enough to influence the minds of the infected knights. Despite the weakened condition of their fellow knight, they refused to head toward Camelot.

"I know this area. There's a castle not far from here. We could take shelter there. You could tend to your friend," Lamia suggested.

"Then lead the way," Leon responded.

"We don't need shelter, thank you. We need Gaius." He refused to look at Lamia, looking instead at his friends, pleading silently that they would come to their senses.

"Silence. You have no say in there matters. You are not a knight. You're nothing but a servant!" Leon's harsh words only served as further proof to Merlin that Lamia was a dangerous influence on his friends. "You can come with us, or you can stay here. It's up to you. Let's go." Leon and Percival picked up Elyan and followed Lamia.

There was no reasoning with them, and Merlin could do nothing but follow them to Lamia's castle. It was clear that no one had resided there for decades, and Leon lighted a touch before leading them inside.

Before any of them had gotten very far, a sudden gust of wind seemed to enter the corridor, blowing out Leon's torch. By the time he lit his torch up again, they realized Lamia was nowhere to be found.

"Where's Lamia?" Leon questioned the group frantically. "Lamia!"

They continued on, hoping to find the missing girl. They entered a great hall. Lamia was nowhere to be seen, but the room was strewn with skeletons and swords.

"What is this place?" Merlin questioned, not sure if the skeletons represented the aftermath of a tragic battle within the castle or if these were men Lamia had lured to their deaths.

"Whatever it is, it isn't safe. We need to find Lamia. She could be in danger." Leon could only think about the poor girl and how scared she must be separated from the knights.

"We're the ones in danger, Leon. She brought us here. She's led us to a trap." Merlin tried again. Maybe now that Lamia was gone he would be able to make them listen to reason.

"That's a lie!" Percival cried defensively.

"She's poisoned your minds and you can't see—"

But before Merlin could finish his sentence Leon cut him off. "Enough. I said ENOUGH." Leon pushed Merlin roughly to the ground. "You stay here and watch Elyan. We will search for Lamia." He motioned for Gwaine and Percival to follow him, leaving Merlin with the debilitated Elyan.

Merlin didn't know what to do. He had to stop Lamia, but he didn't know what she was capable of and he didn't want to risk exposing his magic to the knights. _I hope Arthur finds us soon. _He knew the prince would be worried about them— they had been gone too long.

Merlin sat down, checking Elyan's pulse and temperature to see how the young knight was holding up. Elyan was still alive, but Merlin wasn't sure for how much longer. He sat there, thinking of what he should do next.

Merlin didn't get too far with his planning though. About fifteen minutes later, he heard a scream in the distance. Quickly standing up, Merlin picked up a torch, lighting it with a spell, and ran toward the direction of the yell.

He was too late. Merlin saw Gwaine's body slumped against a column.

"Gwaine?" he whispered, not sure if Lamia was still around. He approached Gwaine, touching the knight's shoulder. Gwaine did not answer. His head was rolled back and his jaw was slack—Lamia had already gotten to him.

Enough was enough. Merlin felt anger rise up his chest. He was going to stop her. He didn't know what sort of sorceress or monster she was, but he wasn't going to let her continue to harm his friends.

With fresh determination Merlin walked on, ready to take down Lamia.

In another room Lamia had cornered Percival and was giving him her kiss of death. From the other side of the room Leon charged in.

"No. No. No." The scene before him seemed to clear his mind as to the true nature of Lamia. Leon rushed at her, sword drawn, ready to strike her down. She barely paid any attention to the furious knight, and with a quick flash of green in her eyes, Lamia sent Leon flying back. It was all too easy for her, and Lamia walked to the unconscious knight, bending down for a kiss to suck his life force as well.

It was at that moment where Merlin walked in.

"Get away from him, Lamia."

Lamia growled, and using her magic, flung a piece of a broken column at him. Merlin easily countered her attack, his eyes flashing gold and slamming the column away from him and into a wall.

"You won't find me such easy prey," he warned.

"Your magic holds no fear in me. I could've killed you anytime I wished," she hissed. Lamia hated the young warlock before her. She knew he would be trouble, and only wished she could have disposed of him earlier.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

* * *

Morgana had walked through countless rooms of the castle, finding nothing and no one until she finally stumbled upon Elyan and Gwaine. They were in separate rooms but both were incapacitated. She reached down, feeling for a pulse. _Still alive. _

She picked up a sword in the great hall. For all her magic, Morgana still liked the protection wielding a sword could bring. She knew for certain now that the lamia was hiding in the castle. It was now turning on the men that it had lured, making Morgana's job much easier since the knights were no longer an obstacle.

Morgana suddenly heard a man's scream— no doubt another knight falling prey to the lamia. She quickly stepped over the skeletons in the current room she was in, following the direction of the noise.

Running down the corridor, she came across Percival and Leon. _It's gotten four of them. Only one more left. _Morgana wondered who the last knight standing was.

She skidded to a halt when she saw the shadow of a giant creature down another corridor. Quickly backtracking a few steps, she strided down the side corridor with purpose. Morgana expected to see a girl, but instead found the lamia in its true form— a hulking beast with a variety of tentacles protruding from its face and body.

Morgana stopped in horror when she saw it was attacking Merlin, one tentacle around his midriff, the other around his neck, choking him. _What is he doing here? _

"_STOP. I am Morgana Pendragon, High Priestess of the Triple Goddess. I command thee to STOP." _Morgana's eyed glowed gold when she uttered the mental command, and she willed the lamia to stop whatever it was doing. The lamia stopped for a minute, hearing Morgana's command in its mind. It froze, its grip loosening on Merlin, and it moved rigidly as if fighting against some invisible bond. For a minute, Morgana thought she would be able to stop the creature without a fight. She was sorely mistaken though. The lamia had quickly dispelled whatever she was struggling against and advanced upon Merlin once again, lunging a tentacle forward to grab his leg before turning its head to view Morgana.

Morgana acted quickly, not wanting to give the lamia any time to enact a counterattack. "Swilte lamia!" she uttered, and the sword she had taken from the great hall flew off her belt and through the air, impaling the lamia through its head. The lamia hissed one final time before falling forward, dead.

"Merlin!" Morgana cried out, rushing to his side after checking that the lamia was indeed dead.

"Morgana?" Merlin looked up at his rescuer, his head still reeling from being tossed around by the lamia during their battle.

She ran to his side and started untangling the lamia's tentacles from Merlin's foot. "Are you hurt anywhere?" she asked, voice full of concern.

"No, I'm fine," he managed to respond, "Just a few scratches." Merlin could barely believe his eyes. _How does she always show up to save me?_

"I'm so glad," she said with a tense smile and she moved behind him, helping him sit up.

He accepted her help, if nothing else than to make sure she was actually physically there. _How did she manage to get herself involved in this?_ "Morgana, what are you doing here?" Merlin's voice came out hoarsely. He hadn't had anything to drink for a day and he sounded harsher than he meant.

"I was tracking the lamia. I was asked to stop it. I didn't realize you'd be here too," she answered honestly, "I'll take my leave now. I just wanted to make sure you weren't injured." She started to get up, not wanting to get into an argument with Merlin, and realizing she should probably leave in case any of the knights came to.

"Here." She reached into the pockets of her pants, producing a little bottle and holding it out to Merlin. "This is the antidote for the lamia's kiss for any of your knights that have been affected. The village has the potion too so you needn't worry about them."

Merlin took the bottle from her, thankful that he wouldn't have to wait for Gaius' arrival to heal his friends. "Wait." De grabbed her hand as she turned to leave. "Please don't go, Morgana." de looked earnestly into her eyes.

This was his chance. They would be able to finish the conversation they had started weeks ago. Merlin didn't know when he'd cross paths with Morgana again and he wouldn't let her go until they talked. He had absolutely no clue what exactly he was going to say to her, but nevertheless he was happy to see her.

But before he could say anything more, he heard the whizz of an arrow fly through the air and puncture Morgana in the stomach.

Morgana cursed her bad luck. She was too distracted to have noticed the arrival of reinforcements from Camelot. She looked behind her and found a knight bent down on one knee, crossbow aimed directly at her. She held the stomach, seeing the tip of the arrow protruding from her body, and feeling the warm blood start to ooze out of her body. She had never seen been injured like this, never seen her own blood like this, but everything happened all too quickly for her to even feel scared. She looked down at Merlin. "Merlin, I—" but that was all she managed to say before blacking out.

Merlin saw Morgana falling and quickly scrambled to his feet, readying himself to catch her. With a soft thump, she fell into his arms, and he laid her gently on the floor before standing up in front of her, shielding her from any further injury. He waved his arms like a madman. "STOP, don't shoot," he cried out.

The knight did not move from his position, crossbow still held up and ready to fire. "That is Morgana Pendragon, traitor to Camelot," he stated firmly. "She is a danger to us all."

Merlin had been through too much in the past few hours. He knew the knight meant well and couldn't be faulted for attacking Morgana, but he wouldn't let any more harm come to her.

Merlin didn't have to do anything though. "Stand down," a voice commanded, and Merlin saw Arthur and a small group of knights approach. Only at the prince's command did the knight drop his bow, standing up and bowing to Arthur. "Sire, I have found the sorceress Morgana," he reported.

"Morgana?" Arthur questioned, "Was she the one controlling the creature that caused the sickness?" Gaius had briefed Arthur on the history of the lamia. They had arrived to Longstead just a few hours before, and Gaius had quickly identified the cause of the disease. Thankfully, the local healer had come through with a cure, but Arthur had left Gaius there to monitor the recovering patients before heading out to search for his lost knights and manservant.

"No, it's not like that Arthur." Merlin was quick to jump to her defense. "She was the one that killed it. I don't know what she's doing here, but she saved us all. She even gave me the antidote to cure Leon, Elyan, and Percival. Please Arthur, she's hurt. She needs help."

Arthur was at a loss. He didn't quite understand the situation but one look at his bleeding sister convinced him that he would get her medical help before thinking about anything else. "Sir Lucan, Sir Bors" he beckoned two of his knights forward, "Get supplies from the horses to treat her injury." The two knights nodded, running out to fetch bandages and disinfectant.

Arthur walked to Merlin, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You did well, Merlin. Now help me apply pressure on her wound." Merlin let out a sigh of relief. _Arthur's here._ _Morgana will be okay. _

But perhaps he relaxed too soon. "Sire?" One of Arthur's knights approached the prince. "I do not mean to speak out of turn, but she is a traitor to our kingdom, not to mention a wielder of magic. That alone is punishable by death under your decrees."

Arthur knew the knight's words were all true. What sort of leader would he be if he bent the rules— the laws of his land for his personal convenience? "I am aware," Arthur stated coolly. "And she will be judged accordingly."

"Arthur?" Merlin questioned in a whisper, not understanding what he meant to do with Morgana.

"Don't worry, Merlin," he whispered back. "We're bringing her home."

**A/N: Exhausted, bedtime! Leave me a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter! Thanks for reading, until next Friday! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I feel like I blinked and now it's Friday again. THREE MORE EPISODES AND MORGANA STILL DOESN'T KNOW WHO EMRYS IS. OOFH. **

**This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but I'm drowning in finals. On the bright side, just a few more days of exams and presentations until winter vacation! **

**Writing this is always a good break though, and I have a lot planned for everyone's storylines. I also really want to write Mordred in, but I'm not sure if I should throw in more plotlines at this point. **

**So many thanks for everyone that's followed/fav'd me. I'm really glad you guys are enjoying this fic. Also to Jedimasterawesome, serenityskywalker, SunnySmile2413 (Thanks! Your username always makes me smile when I read your reviews!), Sacred3, IndiaMoore, Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, LadyDunla, Kianix, nochance (thanks, I took a few creative liberties for my plot to make sense hehe), Whitepurity, mergana4eva, Kreeger (Thanks for your lovely review! Don't worry, Emrys is going to come into play soon), meee18 (Thanks! I'm glad you like it! Yea, poor Alator. Before this episode aired I thought he was going to meet up and support Merlin in the final battle, but there goes that thought ****) I really love hearing what you guys think!**

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing. **

The journey home was extremely tense. None of the knights knew what Arthur was thinking and were all on high alert in case Morgana came-to and decided to wreak havoc. As for Merlin, he was just concerned about the unconscious sorceress. Gaius had applied a poultice and assured him that she had only suffered from a flesh wound.

"She'll recover soon enough. She most likely fainted from shock than anything else." Gaius didn't want Merlin to worry.

Upon their return to Camelot, Arthur ordered that Morgana be brought to her old chambers. "Have two guards stationed outside her door. Make sure no one enters or exits that room except Gaius, Merlin, or myself."

He then addressed Gaius. "Can you administer a sleeping draught to her? I don't want her waking up until I've talked to my father. I don't want to throw her in the dungeons either, but as far as anyone knows, she still poses a great danger to the kingdom."

Arthur approached his father with bated breath. "Father." He touched the older man on his shoulder gingerly.

Uther looked up at his son, giving him a small smile, but not replying.

"Father, I brought Morgana back."

After Morgana's betrayal Uther had lost it. It was a constant struggle to think or speak, much less rule. It was as if he were enveloped in a thick wool blanket, and as much as he tried to paw through it, he could never make it out. And nor did he want too. It was safer not having to think about everything he had lost that night. But when he heard Arthur announce Morgana's return, it felt as if that blanket was lifted. _She_ was back, and he was determined to make her stay.

"Where is she?" Uther's voice cracked when he spoke.

"In her chambers."

"And her magic?"

Arthur wasn't sure what he wanted to hear. "I believe she still possesses magic. Gaius mixed a sleeping potion into her water. He expects her to wake before nightfall and we can talk to her then."

With a sudden burst of energy, Uther stood up, clapping his son on the back. "You did well, Arthur. Come, we have much to do."

Calling for a servant, Uther properly dressed in his regalia for the first time since Arthur's birthday and headed out of his chambers.

Arthur was glad his father was up and about. The man living in the king's chamber had been a mere shadow of the king of Camelot. He was worried though. Arthur didn't know what his father had in store for Morgana, but he knew how the king felt about magic. "Where are we going, father?"

Arthur wasn't sure if Uther just didn't hear his question or if he chose to ignore it, but the king didn't answer. Uther led the two of them down flights and flights of stairs until they arrived in an underground section of the Castle. Arthur soon recognized it as the cave where the Great Dragon was once imprisoned.

"What are we doing here?"

"You see those chains?" Uther pointed across the cave to a rock where the remnants of the dragon's shackles were. "Those are special restraints. They inhibit the use of magic. Have those reforged into irons for Morgana."

Arthur must have had a look of shock on his face. "Now, Arthur." Uther didn't know why his son wasn't moving.

Within the hour Arthur had a portion of the broken chains forged into a pair of small cuffs, and father and son headed to Morgana's chambers.

Gaius and Merlin were already inside, monitoring Morgana's condition. They both bowed deeply upon the Pendragons' arrival, surprised at the sudden appearance of Uther.

"How is she, Gaius?" Arthur asked.

"Her wound is not life-threatening."

"She's still asleep?" Uther avoided looking in Morgana's direction.

"Yes, Sire. She is still sleeping."

"Good." Uther interjected. "Arthur, please restrain her."

Avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room, Arthur walked to the side of his sleeping sister and bound her wrists with the magical shackles.

Uther nodded in satisfaction. "Stay with her Gaius. Call me when she wakes. Let's go, Arthur." And with that the King departed with the prince, still refusing to look at Morgana.

Gaius and Merlin remained in Morgana's room after Uther and Arthur left. "What do you think Uther will do with her?" Merlin asked his mentor.

"I do not know, Merlin. I do not know." Gaius shook his head. He was truly afraid for the young sorceress.

"You don't think he'll have her executed do you?"

Gaius wasn't sure. Uther loved her, Gaius had no doubt about that, but the king hated magic. "You can love someone and still hurt them," Gaius replied, thinking about how the Queen had met her demise.

The two sat by Morgana's bed in silence, Merlin occasionally wiping Morgana's face with a cold cloth.

A few hours later, Gaius glanced at his pocket watch. "I must make my way to the citadel to check on some sick villagers. I will return soon, Merlin. Stay here and watch Morgana."

Merlin nodded, seeing the physician out. He took his seat by Morgana's bedside again. She looked so peaceful sleeping on her bed. Her hair had grown even longer since departing Camelot, and it was splayed across her pillow, forming a dark halo of curls around her pale face. Merlin reached for her hand, holding it in his own. It pained him to see the shackles binding her thin wrists. "Thank you for saving me," he whispered. "I'll make sure nothing happens to you here." He knew she couldn't hear him— Gaius' potion induced a deep sleep— but he felt the need to reassure both her and himself that everything would be okay.

Merlin didn't know Uther well enough to predict what the king was going to do. Arthur had told him that the king meant to strip Morgana of her magic in order to return her to normal. Merlin knew better though. There was no way they could separate Morgana from her magic— it was a part of her. Any methods Uther meant to use to rid Morgana of her magic would only hurt the young sorceress and fuel her hate for Uther. At the end of it all, Uther would have to realize that Morgana's magic was permanent, and then what? Merlin honestly didn't know if the king was above executing his daughter.

Merlin needed to formulate a plan to save Morgana from whatever Uther had in mind. As he started to think of what he could possibly do, he felt Morgana grip his hand. Merlin had almost forgotten he was holding her hand. Looking over to the bed, he saw Morgana start to stir. Merlin quickly pulled his hand away.

He did so just in time, as Morgana's eyes slowly opened, dark lashes rising to reveal a pair of blue-green eyes. "Merlin?" she asked in confusion. "Where am I?"

Slowly, she sat up, trying to prop herself up with her hands before realizing she was shackled. "What are these?" Morgana's eyes flashed in anger, and then gold, as she casted a silent spell to release her restraints. To her surprise, nothing happened. "Merlin." Her voice sounded anxious. "What's going on?"

"We're in Camelot, in your old chambers to be exact," Merlin murmured, not wanting to tell Morgana that saving him resulted in her confinement in the castle. "Why were you in Lamia's castle?" He changed the subject.

"What?" Morgana was still confused. The last thing she remembered was being shot. "I was sent to kill the lamia. It infected the villagers of Longstead. I'd been tracking it, which led me to that old castle." Morgana rubbed her forehead, the grogginess starting to wear off. "I heard a scream and followed it, eventually finding the lamia choking you."

It was Merlin's turn to be confused. "Who sent you?"

"I can't say." Morgana's eyes narrowed. "Since when is it against the law to do good? If I recall, I saved you and those poor excuses of knights," she said defensively. She didn't want to answer Merlin's questions; she just wanted to get out of Camelot.

Morgana didn't know if she could trust Merlin. She wanted to, but she knew how loyal he was to Camelot.

"Merlin, please, you have to get these off of me." She held her arms out, her eyes pleading with Merlin. "I can't be here. I can't see Uther or Arthur."

"Why Morgana? You saved Uther. And don't tell me you don't want to see Arthur. I know you still care for him." They had finally gotten her home, and Merlin wouldn't lose her again. Whatever the king had in store for her, Merlin would make sure she came to no harm. She just _had _to stay.

"Please. Uther deserves a fate far worse than death from a simple flesh wound." Morgana mumbled crossly, her eyes staring down into her hands. Of course Merlin would bring up _that_ incident, but she didn't want to talk about it.

"Stop it, Morgana." Merlin grabbed her hand suddenly, causing her to look up at him. "You craved his love, his acceptance. Why can't you just admit that, Morgana?" Merlin didn't understand why she wouldn't just confess that no matter what had happened in the past, Uther was still her father, and she cared about him.

Merlin's words stirred a rage within Morgana, but also an underlying pain she didn't realize still existed. She did care about Uther. Even before she realized he was her father, she thought of him as family. For all his faults and prejudices, she felt that he would always protect her, always care about her. When she realized she had magic, Morgana was afraid that he would hate her, and she masked that fear with anger and aggression. "What do you want from me, Merlin?" Morgana spat. "I lived in fear of him before I realized I was more powerful than he could ever be." She wouldn't admit that Uther still meant something to her. "Don't ever mistake the fact that I healed him for affection."

"You've already broken free of him, Morgana." Merlin's voice was soft. She could be both a High Priestess and Uther's daughter. "You can find your own happiness regardless of the fact that you have magic and regardless of the fact that Uther is your father. What I want is for you to realize that." Merlin wished that she would just come to terms with her relationship with the King. He, above all, understood her best, even if she didn't know that.

Morgana turned her head away from Merlin, but didn't pull her hand back. She wondered if he had always been so wise. He grounded her, assuaged any anger that bubbled up. Melin was so different from her. Morgana admired the fact that he wasn't the type of man to be quick tempered or full of anger. He was the kind of man who always treasured the people he cared about. _What's wrong with you, Morgan? Stop thinking about what type of man Merlin is. You've got to get out of Camelot. Alator is probably so worried by now. _But Morgana couldn't help wanting to stay, if for nothing else than to talk to Merlin. "Merlin—"

But just as Morgana started to speak, the door to the room slowly creaked open and Merlin quickly retracted his hand from Morgana's. Morgana frowned, displeased at the sudden lack of contact, and turned to look at the intruder.

"Gaius." She raised an eyebrow.

"Morgana. You're awake." Gaius exchanged a glance with Merlin, wondering how long the young warlock had spent talking with the witch.

"Clearly." Morgana glared. She was on her guard again. She didn't trust Gaius. At all. She had a feeling he always knew that she had magic but had given her ineffective sleeping draughts instead of trying to help her.

Gaius shivered, not enjoying Morgana's intense stare. "I am glad you have recovered. I will have supper brought to you before the king comes."

"I don't want supper. Let me out of these awful chains, Gaius." Morgana's voice was commanding.

"You know very well I cannot do that." The reminder that Morgana's magic was temporarily hindered brought Gaius great relief. "Let's go, Merlin."

Gaius exited first, Merlin following him. "Oh wait, Gaius. You go ahead. I'm just going to get those old washcloths and bring them to the laundry. I'll be two steps behind you."

Gaius gave Merlin a pointed look. "Don't be too long," he answered sternly.

Merlin nodded, and closed the door after the physician.

"Listen, Morgana. I won't let anything bad happen to you." He walked to her beside, gathering the used washcloths.

"Why do you care?" Her question was sincere. Morgana wondered why Merlin was telling her this. Sure, she had saved him recently, but she had also hurt him greatly in the past.

"Because you're important to me." Merlin looked at her intently, as if trying to will her into believing his words.

Morgana was taken aback. She didn't say anything, but gave him a shy half-smile. She wanted to believe him, and for now, she would trust his words. After all, she had no one else.

Merlin sighed in relief. It seemed like he was really starting to get through to her. He didn't want to leave her, but knew he had to go. "You will be alright without me?" The words were barely a whisper.

And just like that all her anger and fear dissolved for the moment. "I'll be fine. After all, I'm not a child." Morgana scoffed playfully.

As promised, Gaius and Merlin soon returned with Morgana's evening supper. She was about to protest again, when she saw that Gaius and Merlin had brought company into the room. Morgana's mind went blank as she saw Uther and Arthur come in.

"Morgana." Uther's greeting was terse and emotionless.

"Father," she hissed.

"Leave us. And instruct the guards outside to return to their normal patrol." With a wave of his arm, Uther dismissed Gaius, Merlin, and even Arthur. Setting the supper tray down, Merlin gave Morgana one final look and a small reassuring smile before departing with Arthur and Gaius.

"I have nothing to say to you." Morgana refused to look at the king.

"Don't worry." Uther refused to believe this was his daughter. The influence of magic had twisted her. "We will cleanse you of whatever magic has a hold over you."

Hearing those words infuriated Morgana and she quickly contradicted her previous statement. "You'll never understand, Uther. Magic is a part of who I am." The conversation couldn't have started in a more hostile way. Morgana hated that this was the first thing Uther brought up. There was no "How are you?" or "I've missed you," or "Sorry I never told you that I am your father." No, he had to jump straight into how much he hated magic. Morgana couldn't have felt more frustrated. "Do you think I would willingly decide to practice magic? I was your ward. I of all people know how you felt about magic." Morgana's angry outburst reverberated in the large chamber. She was so fed up with Uther regarding magic as nothing more than a dress she could choose to either don or disrobe.

Uther was deaf to her comments. "My child," he said, approaching her bed, "you are sick, but we will make you well again." He tried to stroke her hair, only to have Morgana knock his hands away roughly. This definitely wasn't his daughter. "Magic has changed you, Morgana, made you do terrible things."

"No. Magic isn't good or bad. It just is, Uther. I have done terrible things with my magic, but you have done even more egregious things without it." She wondered why it was so hard for him to understand. Normal people were capable of doing great deeds but equally capable of committing horrifying acts. Why did he think having magic was a condemnation of evil?

Morgana had the uncanny ability of making Uther lose his temper. "So you don't repent for your actions?" His voice was loud, too loud for the room. How dare she accuse him of anything.

"Do you repent for yours?" Morgana looked sadly at Uther.

Morgana challenged Uther, and as much as that infuriated him, he also loved that about her. She had all the grace and charm of a noble lady but was outspoken and brave like a fine warrior. Arthur had always been quick to please Uther, wanting nothing but his father to be proud of him, but Morgana had always spoken her mind. She was thoughtful and intelligent, but Uther refused to budge on his policies about magic. "Then you leave me no choice." His face was hard and emotionless. "For possessing magic and attacking Camelot, you will be executed."

Morgana thought she'd be angry, but all she felt was sadness and pity for the man before her. She never wanted to see Uther again, knowing that any conversation with him would be futile. Uther was reacting exactly how she always feared he would if he found out about her magic. "Get out." Her voice was soft, drained.

"You will not tell the King what to do," Uther warned.

"Get out." Her voice was louder this time.

"This is my castle. You are in my kingdom. You best watch your tongue, Morgana."

Morgana couldn't stand to be in the same room as Uther anymore. He had just sentenced her to death and still expected her to respect and obey him? "GET OUT." She screamed this time, her eyes glowing gold and the glass windows of the rooms shaking.

Uther would not admit it, but her magic truly scared him. She was restrained by the special cuffs still, but somehow her magic could not be fully inhibited. Uther decided he would take his leave. "Think about it, Morgana. You had a life here. You could have one again." He walked toward the door. "I take no pleasure in your suffering, Morgana, but if you are not willing to see the error of your ways then you leave me no choice." He truly didn't want to see her dead, but he just didn't know how to get through to her.

Uther was talking, but Morgana wasn't listening anymore. Her head hurt from her little outburst of magic. The windows should have shattered, the chandelier should have fallen, the floors should have creaked, but the cuffs that Uther had bound her with were effectively stopping her magic. She ignored him, closing her eyes and resting her body against the headboard of her bed, until she heard Uther sigh deeply and exit the room.

Outside, Merlin and Arthur were listening, ears pressed against the door, to the conversation between Uther and Morgana.

"Merlin, your face is too close to mine," Arthur warned.

"What are you complaining for? At least I brushed my teeth," Merlin joked.

"If only my manservant had packed a toothbrush for my journey instead of being lost and needing rescue." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I didn't need rescuing— not by you anyway." Merlin's voice was gentle, and Arthur knew he was thinking about Morgana.

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur's voice was gentle too.

They listened intently, both bolting down the hall when they heard Uther's footsteps approach the door.

A few hours later, when night had enveloped Camelot, Merlin walked into her room to blow out the candles.

He touched her head lightly, careful not to wake her but wanting to make sure her fever was gone. He had wanted her back in Camelot, just not like this. Merlin was afraid her interaction with Uther would cause her to unravel again— harden her heart and reinvigorate her hatred toward the kingdom.

"I'll protect you this time," he whispered a promise.

**A/N: Oh, Uther! How is Merlin going to fix this? What does Arthur think about Morgana's return? Will this help or hinder Agravaine's plan? **

**Thanks everyone for reading, and reviews are super super appreciated as always! **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Sorry this is late, I've been crazy sick with a respiratory infection this week. I've pretty much just been sleeping and drinking my weight in water. **

**Special thanks to Jedimasterawesome, Olive, Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714 (Thanks. Hah, yea, I was a little concerned about that, you'll get more of his thought process this chapter though), Black Alnair, Kianix (I plan to!), Guest (Wow, thanks for all your comments, it's really helpful to get feedback. Morgana's change of heart is going to be explored a lot more now that I've pulled away from following the tv plot, and there's going to be a lot of bumps on the path back to the 'original' Morgana. I completely rushed the Lancelot bit but it'll be addressed more fully a little later on in the story though when Gwen comes back so let me know what you think then! I've been running wild with Agravaine. With the way he was characterized in the show I just couldn't see him being a good villain without Morgana pulling the strings. It's good to hear your thoughts. I'll keep him away from any magical plots in the future. And yes! Merlin is the best ever), LadyDunla, IndiaMoore, Mike3207, Kreeger (Thanks, good call, I think I'm already running too many storylines as it is!)**

**Disclaimer: Merlin is still not mine. **

Uther was a hard man, but he wasn't heartless. If there was anything he could do to fix Morgana, he'd do it, and so he summoned Gaius to his chamber early the next morning to see if the wise physician had any answers.

"What can we do to cleanse Morgana of her magic?" He immediately questioned as Gaius walked in. If anyone knew how to bring Morgana back it would be Gaius.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Sire."

"I don't care what it takes. Just tell me what we need to do."

Gaius sighed. "No matter how much you wish to remove Morgana's magical ability, there is nothing we can do. Her powers are considerable, no doubt developed under Morgause's tutelage, and there is no known method of removing a person's magic."

Uther didn't want to hear it. He slammed his hand on the arm of his chair "This would have never happened if Morgause was killed like I ordered." His voice was low and harsh.

Gaius shuddered internally. The tone of Uther's voice scared him and Gaius knew the king would always resent him for smuggling Morgause out of Camelot when she was a baby. "I am sorry, Sire." Gaius bowed deeply. "If there was anything I could do, I would. I know how much the Lady Morgana means to you."

Uther gave Gaius a long look. "Very well then, Gaius. You are dismissed."

* * *

Morgana had been moved to the dungeons. Since she had rebuffed Uther's attempts at reconciliation he felt it was only right for her to be treated like the traitor she was. In a fit of fury, Uther found Arthur after leaving Morgana's chambers, and declared his intentions to have her hanged.

"Have her thrown in the dungeons. Make sure no one touches her cuffs. We will be losing nothing with her death."

Uther was far too angry to listen to reason that night, so Arthur decided to let his father sleep his rage off. In the morning though, Arthur believed it was time for him to have a real conversation with Morgana and walked down to the dungeons in the early hours.

He told the guards to wait down the hall, assuring them that Uther would have no problem with Arthur spending some time along with Morgana. He wasn't sure if that was true, but he needed to talk to her before the situation progressed any further.

His talk with the guards had woken Morgana, and when she saw Arthur, she walked up to the bars of the cell to greet him.

"Good morning, Prince Arthur. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He was taken aback by her greeting. Her tone was light, and there was no biting sarcasm in her words. Compared to the violent outbursts from her conversation with Uther last night, this was a dramatic difference.

"I just wanted to talk to you," Arthur started.

"I think it's a bit too late for talking, don't you think?" She jingled her shackles. "Now, it was nice to see you again, but I'll be returning to sleep now. Goodbye." She dismissed him, walking to a shadowy corner of her cell and sitting down.

Arthur didn't know where to start with her, or how to get her to listen. He stood there for a while, arms crossed, biting his lip, before deciding to speak with her again."Do you remember when Merlin was poisoned, after drinking the goblet that was meant for me during the peace treaty signing with Mercia?"

Morgana nodded from the shadows.

"Do you remember what Father told me?"

Morgana held back a scoff. "Not particularly. Something about how your life is worth more, and it would be foolish for you to go on a dangerous journey to seek the antidote for him."

It was Arthur's turn to nod. "But I couldn't stand by and do nothing. Merlin had warned us that the drink was poisoned but we didn't listen. I couldn't let him die for being right."

"Yes, yes. The valiant Prince Arthur always does the right thing. What's your point?"

"I don't though. Without you, I wasn't sure if I would have gone."

"Without me? What do you mean?"

"You don't remember?"

Morgana raised an eyebrow.

"You told me that sometimes I just have to do what I think is right. 'Damn the consequences' were your exact words I believe."

The edges of Morgana's lips slightly curved upward. She didn't remember the conversation exactly, but it sounded like something she would say. "And what did you say?"

"I asked you if you thought I should go and you said it didn't matter what you thought."

"Shocking. I didn't have an opinion?"

"I asked you what would happen if I went and didn't make it back. Who would be Camelot's next king? I thought there was more than just my life at stake."

She got up then and walked up to the bars of the cell again. "You don't really want me to answer that now do you, brother? I'm sure Camelot would have gotten along fine with a new Queen." It probably wasn't the right time to joke about that, but regardless of the time that had passed, Morgana would never pass up an opportunity to watch Arthur squirm.

Arthur took a step back, but then chose to continue with his story, ignoring her remark. "You asked me what sort of king Camelot would want. You asked me if Camelot would want a king who would risk his life to save a lowly servant or a king that did whatever his father told him to. That's what pushed me to disobey Uther and seek the antidote against his wishes. And in the end, it was well worth it. _You _made me a better prince, a better person."

The more Arthur talked about that time the more Morgana started to remember. She appreciated that he thought so highly of her, but the Arthur she knew was always thinking about what he could do best for his people, regardless of if she had said something or not. "Oh save it Arthur, don't drag me into your sappy memories."

"Drop the act. I know you, and this isn't it."

"You know nothing about me, Arthur." Maybe he meant well, but he didn't know the real her. "So maybe there was a time when I gave you good advice and you looked out for me, but everything has changed. I have magic and this is a kingdom where having magic is the highest form of treason."

"So do something about it! Can't you just…" Arthur shrugged his shoulders awkwardly, "I don't know… keep it in check? Suppress it? Forget about it?" He truly didn't understand how magic worked, but he wanted Morgana back.

"You're so much like Uther. I can't, Arthur. Magic is a part of who I am. Do you think I sat in my room, in Camelot Castle, learning how to conjure spells and see the future? There was a time where I would have given anything not to have magic, not to be hated by Uther. I've since learned that magic is something innately a part of me, even if you don't understand it."

"You're right, I don't understand magic. I can't figure out how I feel about it. I've seen people, you included, use magic to cause horrible atrocities, but I've also seen people, you included, use magic for good."

"Yet you rule over a kingdom where all practitioners of magic are blindly executed."

"I am not king yet, Morgana, and Uther has a duty to protect the people of Camelot. Most sorcerers he has met have used their powers for evil, and he cannot risk the lives of thousands every time he is unsure of a sorcerer's intentions."

"So you've come to tell me that nothing has changed in Camelot?"

Arthur sighed, walking closer to her cell and gripping the bars that separated them. "No, I've come to tell you that I'm still going to be a king who will risk his life to save someone he cares about. I don't care what Uther says; you're not going to be executed in the morning."

Morgana was touched. It was a weird sensation for her and stirred up feelings she thought she'd never feel again. She stopped considering Arthur family a long time ago. It wasn't that she didn't care about him anymore, but he wasn't actually her brother, at least not in the way that Morgause was her sister. He never understood her the way Morgause did, but it seemed like now he was trying to.

"Why are you doing this for me? Because a long time ago I helped you do the right thing?"

"Yes, but not just that. You used to see things right? I mean, visions of the future or something? You tried to warn me about the Questing Beast, remember?" He needed her to remember. "I thought you were crazy, rushing outside in your nightgown and trying to grab me off my horse, but you've never stopped me from facing my duties as a prince, not matter how dangerous. You only did it because you said you saw terrible things happen if I went. You had a vision and you tried to help me."

_How did he remember these things? _It seemed like so long ago since she'd had nightmares not knowing they were visions of the future. She was yet again touched that he seemed to be piecing everything together but not disgusted that she had had magic for so long. "That was a long time ago Arthur. We're much different people now." Morgana didn't want to die. She certainly didn't want to be executed. When she was still the king's ward, she had witnessed, too many times, executions and hangings gone wrong. But Morgana refused to apologize to her tyrant of a father for having magic. It seemed almost funny to her. Uther didn't seem to care that she had once overthrown his rule and taken over his kingdom. He didn't seem to care that she even put the entire country in danger when she tore the Veil. All he could care about was the mere fact that she had magic. She wouldn't let Arthur beg Uther to forgive her. Their conversation last night had only proved to her that Uther was exactly the hateful, small-minded man she thought he was, and she would never kowtow to his oppression.

"Maybe." Arthur wasn't one to give up easily. "Maybe we're not as different as you think." He left her with those words and went to find his father.

* * *

Uther could barely remember a time where he didn't hate magic. That didn't mean there wasn't a time though, however many decades ago, where he called those with magic his friends. _Nimueh._ She was but a distant memory now, and he had long since forgotten their times of camaraderie and friendship. What he would always remember was that she used magic to take away the person he loved most in the world. He could do nothing then, just like he could do nothing now. Magic had taken his wife away from him, and it now corrupted his daughter beyond repair. Uther was angry, but had no outlet for that anger. He blamed much of Morgana's change on Morgause. That wretched woman had divided Morgana's loyalties and poisoned her mind, but she was already dead. There was nothing left to do, no one left to punish, save for Morgana.

Uther was just pondering how to best handle this situation when Arthur strode into the room.

"Father." He bowed. "Do you really mean to execute her?" He meant to ask him if he had slept well or eaten breakfast, but the words just blurted out of his mouth.

Uther sighed; he knew this conversation was coming. "She leaves me no choice. She will not stop practicing magic, nor does she repent for her actions."

"Surely you can reconsider her sentence. She's been back but a day, Father. She's spent years with Morgause. How do you expect to change her in so little time?"

"She has magic, Arthur. No amount of time will change that. Have I taught you nothing?"

Sometimes Arthur didn't know how to talk to his father. Arthur knew Uther was troubled by his decision to execute Morgana. He knew his father was more hurt than he was letting on, but he just didn't know how to approach the situation. That was the problem with their relationship. Uther would never show his weakness and Arthur could never ask him about it.

"Yes, I know. It's just, she's _Morgana. _She's my si—" Arthur bit his tongue. Since Morgana's betrayal he hadn't had a chance to talk to his father about the fact that Morgana was his sister, and he didn't think now was the right time to bring it out. "I grew up with her," he rephrased. "We must try harder."

Uther shook his head. Sometimes he wondered if Arthur had learned nothing. The boy meant well, but he was still much too soft-hearted to lead a kingdom. "I know it's difficult, son, but magic is evil and the greatest threat our kingdom faces. It is our duty to Camelot to eradicate those who practice magic, even if it's someone we care about."

It wasn't that simple to Arthur. He thought of the time when Morgana helped him protect Ealdor and of the time she helped him kill the Afanc. "No, father, what's going to be difficult is bringing the old Morgana back, but it can be done. Let me at least try."

"Enough, Arthur, this is not your decision to make." Uther's voice was tired, he didn't want to explain himself to his own son.

Arthur balled his fists in frustration before releasing them and taking a deep breath. Uther wasn't even listening anymore. "But she saved you, Father, twice." Morgana couldn't simply be forgiven for everything she had done, but her actions as of late had to count in her favor. She had healed Camelot's king from a deathly wound inflicted by Odin's assassin. That meant something.

"And I'll always love who she was." That was all Uther would say about Morgana.

Arthur couldn't stand it anymore— what kind of answer was that? Did he suddenly not love her? Uther had charged him with finding and bringing Morgana back alive to 'fix' her and now they were just going to give up? He had found Morgana just to have her executed? "Do you hate magic so much that you're going to murder your own daughter?" His voice was louder and more accusatory than he thought it would be, but Arthur didn't care anymore. Maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised. Uther had always lacked any doubt about condemning those with magic, but Arthur just thought it would have been different with Morgana.

Uther was shocked by Arthur's sudden outburst. "Enough. You are not the king of Camelot. Everything I do, I do for the good of the kingdom. That is my duty. You best remember that if you ever hope to rule Camelot."

Arthur knew he should have apologized, or at least looked somewhat apologetic, but all he could do was storm out of Uther's room without a further word.

* * *

"I don't understand him sometimes, Merlin. She saved him with her magic!" Arthur paced around his room, frustrated by his conversation with his father.

Merlin sighed. He wanted to like the King, he really did, but Uther made it so hard. The man had slaughtered thousands of innocent people in his crusade against magic, but Merlin felt that the king was still fundamentally good. Sure he was misguided, fueled by loss and a lack of understanding of magic, but Merlin didn't believe that meant Uther deserved to die. It was the same with Morgana. No matter what had happened, Merlin believed she was still fundamentally good, and if he could stand by Uther, he sure as hell would stand by Morgana.

"You'll be king someday, Arthur. You've been ruling in his stead this entire time. Your opinion is just as valid as his," Merlin advised.

"But his word is final. What can I do to save her without contradicting my father?"

"I don't know, Sire." Merlin really didn't, but he'd have to figure out something soon enough.

* * *

Uther was sick of his children yelling at him. He was the king of Camelot. Had the entire world forgotten that? He was in a foul mood and felt annoyed when he heard a knock at his door. "Come in," he answered wearily.

"Sire." Agravaine walked through the door.

"Agravaine, please, have a seat." Uther had never been very fond of his late wife's younger brother, thinking him too soft and timid.

"I am glad to see you are much recovered, though the circumstances are unfortunate. The kingdom had not been the same since you took ill." Agravaine was well-versed in pandering to royalty.

Uther's mood visibly improved. Perhaps he was too quick in judging Agravaine. Surely the man had grown since their last meeting. "Arthur has told me how supportive you've been these past few months. I thank you for helping my son take charge of the kingdom in my stead."

"Think nothing of it. It's only right that I support my family in these difficult times. Arthur has been a brave ruler, perhaps not as wise or diligent as you in your fight against magic, but he is still young."

"My sentiments exactly, Agravaine." It felt good to have the counsel of a like-minded individual. "Say, Agravaine, I'd like to hear your opinion on something."

"Sire?"

"No doubt you are aware of Morgana's capture?"

"Yes, Sire."

"I don't want to execute her. I know it would break Arthur's heart, but do I have any other choice?"

Agravaine chose his words carefully. "No one would fault you for making an exception, Sire. We all know how _close _she was to you and the young prince." Agravaine didn't care if Morgana died. In fact, it would probably be better if she did, but he wanted to gauge the king's reaction.

"She has left me with no choice but to execute her." The king affirmed, more to himself than to Agravaine. "How can I stand by my policy against magic and make an exception for her?"

"Morgana's actions have resulted in the deaths of many of Camelot's fine citizens," Agravaine reminded the king. "I do believe the people would want to see justice served."

"You're right. Thank you, Agravaine."

"Anything for my lord." Agravaine paused, then added, "I do not envy your position, Sire. I can only imagine how difficult ordering Morgana's execution must be, but you are doing the right thing. There can be no place for magic in Camelot. Let me handle the preparations though. It's the least I can do."

Uther smiled. He really would have to reconsider his opinion about Agravaine. "Thank you, _brother_. I will leave it to you then."

Agravaine couldn't believe his good luck. This would be the perfect opportunity to dispose of the entire Pendragon family. The execution would not doubt take place in the courtyard of the citadel, and Uther and Arthur would be exposed to the public on the balcony of the castle. Agravaine would be in charge of the patrols, and he could easily have the guards rotated away from the upper perimeter of the citadel wall that was a perfect vantage point for an archer. There would be too much going on— Morgana's execution, the massive public crowd— for the guards to get it together and capture the assassin. He would write to his brother now.

**A/N: Uther, Uther, Uther. Will he push Morgana back into her old ways? How's Merlin going to protect all of the Pendragons? Stayed tuned for next chapter! R&R!**

**And since my next update won't be till Friday, I hope you guys all have the merriest Christmas if you celebrate! **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: So now that Merlin's over, I'm rewatching the entire series of course. I completely forgot about the whole storyline about Gwen having a crush on Merlin. Sigh, sigh. **

**Sorry AGAIN that I'm late. My wonderful and talented best friend who betas my chapters (and needs to get an ff account so I can properly credit her!) has been so sick the past few days. But now she's all better (yay!) so we'll be back on track with Friday updates. **

**I wanted to preface this chapter by saying that I have so much fun writing for characters like Uther, Agravaine, and Alator, just because they're delved less into than our favorite main characters! With Uther, I feel like 85% of the time he's a completely unsympathetic character, but he has those little moments where you start to like him because he loves Arthur and Morgana. Anyway, hopefully I captured both sides of his personality and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Super special thanks to Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714 (Thanks so much for your review. Uther's been persecuting sorcerers for over two decades, so I feel like that hated and that train of thought doesn't go away so easily, even for Morgana, and it also causes him to make a bunch of rash decisions. That being said, I agree that he's a terrible hypocrite who loves his children fiercely.), Kianix (Thanks! She was so good in season 1, wasn't she?), Kreeger (Thank you! I hope you had a great Christmas as well ****J****), areanna123 (Thank you! I feel the exact same way!), Olive, Narutoske, IndiaMoore (haha, thanks!), serenityskywalker, LadyDunla, Rya3SaberVltar (So glad to hear you like it! I think I missed the deadline to vote on your poll D: but feel free to PM me if I can help in any way!), fullhans1, meee18 (Thanks! I love writing in Arthur whenever I can hehe)**

**Disclaimer: If Merlin belonged to me then Gwaine would make better decisions in his love life.**

Securing the support of an army was a far more difficult task than Tristan imagined. The most obvious allies were King Caerleon or King Lot, as they shared borders with Camelot and had no peace treaties with the Pendragons. There was also King Odin, who had very personal reasons for wanting the Pendragons dead. Even Lord Bayard wouldn't be above attacking Camelot if he could be guaranteed success. But dealing with kings was an onerous task compared to allying with the many warlords in the realm. There were too many politics involved but still, Tristan felt that kings were easier to control, bound by some sort of honor and genteel training. Warlords were wild and unpredictable, unversed in the careful strategic planning all kings were taught and easily swayed to rash decisions by their moods.

It wasn't hard getting an audience with any of the kings. The name 'Tristan de Bois' immediately sparked curiosity and Tristan spent many of his days courting the different kings he felt would make advantageous allies. Tristan would have preferred to gain the support of King Lot, as he was a cunning and charismatic man. Lot was a strategic thinker who showed no mercy to his enemies, but treated his people fairly and was much more beloved than his cousin Cenred. However, Lot had no interest in waging war against Camelot. His current focus was on rebuilding Essetir and retraining his army from the mess Cenred had dragged the kingdom through. But Lot was shrewd. The fall of Camelot would be good for his kingdom. Even if Camelot belonged to another king, it would be much easier to overtake once the Pendragons were out of power. So while he declined Tristan's offer, he made the introduction between King Odin and Tristan.

Odin was a far easier man to convince. Lot's dislike of Camelot was for much more political reasons, but Odin was moved to hatred by a deeply personal motivation. Odin had little interest in the throne or in Camelot's riches— though he wouldn't mind staking his claim over Camelot's land or helping himself to some of Camelot's treasures. He wanted to see the Pendragons dead. Ever since Arthur had killed his son, Odin took very little pleasure in his life. His wife had died in childbirth and he had never remarried. She was the one true love of his life, and he was lucky to have met her early on in his youth after a jousting tournament in Mercia. He had accepted her death with grace and focused his attentions on their son. Odin wanted to make sure their son would become a king who would make his wife proud. Fate would not be so kind to Odin though, and his precious son was taken from him. There was no one to blame for the passing of his wife as she had died of natural causes, but the life of his son had been forcibly ended by Prince Arthur Pendragon. Since then, Odin had been focused on causing the demise of the Pendragons. He held no tournaments, no feasts. He did not entertain other nobles or kings from other kingdoms. He did not enjoy trips to the tavern or nights with a whore. Odin spent every waking minute strengthening his army, trying to find weaknesses in Camelot's borders, and thinking of ways to sneak assassins into the home of the Pendragons.

So when Odin heard that the eldest de Bois had magically risen from the dead and was bent on revenge for the death of his sister, Odin knew he had the opportunity to secure a valuable ally. Odin really had no strong opinions toward magic. He was a king, and magic was simply another weapon he could harness against his enemies. It made no difference to him that Tristan was an unnatural creature of magic now. After all, he looked like a human and sounded like a human.

But for all Odin's obsession with the Pendragons, Tristan's talks with him never resulted in action. Tristan learned very quickly that Odin was not one for direct combat. The king refused to rally his men to war until they could cripple Camelot from within. Namely, Odin wanted to see one or both of the Pendragons dead before he would advance on the kingdom. Tristan couldn't blame him though. The king had spent too much time building up his army to risk confronting the knights of Camelot with no guarantee of victory.

If there was anything Tristan respected about Uther, it was that the man always fought his own battles. Tristan was sure it was because of the man's hubris, but he felt that a leader of a kingdom should always face his enemies directly. Perhaps he still held onto some of the ideals of when he was a knight, but the use of assassins seemed like an underhanded plot unfit for a king. But beggars couldn't be choosers, and so Tristan could only bide his time until the perfect opportunity came his way.

So when the young serving boy Blaine came barreling into his chambers with word from Agravaine, Tristan knew all his waiting had finally paid off.

"Ser Tristan, Ser Tristan," the boy called, panting from all the running. "I bring news from Lord Agravaine."

Tristan motioned for the boy to bring over the letter quickly. The letter was clearly scrawled in a hurry. The words were smudged and hard to read— Agravaine had not let the ink dry before rolling up the parchment and instructing the boy to deliver it— and the sentences were hurried and fragmented. It was clear, however, that Agravaine had just created the perfect opportunity to assassinate both the Pendragons. Tristan hurried to bring the news to Odin.

It was a simple plan, but a well laid out one. Odin would send four men to Camelot, led by Tristan. Agravaine would provide them with the uniforms of Camelot's soldiers, whatever weapons they required, and access within the walls of Camelot. They would station themselves as the patrol on the upper battlement perimeter. When Uther and Arthur came out to the balcony, Odin's men would shoot on Tristan's command. They would then descend down the citadel, stripping off the uniforms and blending in with the townspeople gathered in the citadel square before sneaking away. The kingdom would then be lost with the passing of both its royals, and Odin's army would be the first to attack.

* * *

Uther Pendragon understood that the world wasn't a simple place. He had learned firsthand that love doesn't always conquer all and blood isn't always the deepest bond. Sometimes, the core of the problem was too big, too deep to fix. Sometimes there are no good options, no ways for reconciliation. He resigned himself to believe that this was one of those situations.

Uther was a brave king. He accomplished much in his time, and he did so by meeting his challenges head-on. He was a king who truly understood what his title meant and what responsibilities he had to the kingdom. He would do what was best for Camelot— he would not stray from his policies.

But Uther was also a father. His responsibilities as a king and as a father had always worked in tandem. It was his duty, in both his roles, to take care of Arthur and mold him into a fine son and a fine prince. With Arthur he never had to pick between roles. Once, and just once, he had bent the rules for Arthur, discarding the Knight's Code and facing a wraith in Arthur's stead. Gaius had told him that a wraith couldn't be killed, but he didn't care. Uther would rather die himself than let his most precious son perish. Uther loved Arthur more than Camelot and his actions that day were that of a father, not a king.

With Morgana, it was different. He couldn't be her father and the King of Camelot. He couldn't step in to save her because unlike in Arthur's situation, where bending the rules put no one but himself in danger, saving Morgana could very well cause the downfall of Camelot.

He knew Arthur didn't understand yet, but a king could not allow himself to doubt his policies or his actions. Morgana was a witch, and the consequences for having magic in Camelot had always been clear. There was no room for regret in the heart of a king.

On many levels, he and Morgana were the same. They were filled with the same unspoken doubts and fears, and both were overflowing with mistrust of those around them. Perhaps at one point it could have been simpler. Maybe those feelings would have vanished if they had just tried to understand each other better, but too much had happened. Those feelings had taken root in their hearts and repeated themselves again and again until they brought them to where they were now.

He had made up his mind already, but somehow it didn't sit well with him. He thought of Arthur's words. Did he hate magic so much that he would kill his own daughter? He didn't want to think about the consequences of his decision to execute Morgana. Whenever he let his mind wander in that direction, he felt his heart seize up, as if someone had reached into his chest and grabbed it, clenching his heart to the point where he could still survive, but all other bodily functions were disabled. It was a dreadful feeling, and it was the same feeling he had when Arthur announced he was going on a dangerous mission alone and there was nothing Uther could say or do to stop him. He thought the feeling would pass, but it persisted, and he grew more and more doubtful about his sentencing.

"I have been thinking that perhaps I was too rash in my decision to have Morgana executed." Agravaine was briefing Uther on the final plans for Morgana's execution in the morning when Uther interjected.

"Sire?" Agravaine had no idea what Uther was thinking.

"She is young and impressionable and has been led astray by Morgause. It is my fault for ever allowing Morgause into Camelot."

"But you did not know that Morgause would target Morgana. You can hardly blame yourself, Sire."

Uther nodded. "Magic has always been insidious, ensnaring the hearts of good men and women." Uther would not take too much blame in what happened to Morgana.

"And it is a point of great sorrow that the Lady Morgana has fallen victim to the evils of sorcery, but it is too late for her."

"Is it? She saved my life, Agravaine. She risked being caught by the guards to come heal a wound even Gaius was unable to treat."

"Using sorcery," Agravaine pointed out.

Uther should've cared more that she healed him with magic. Maybe it was because he was just glad to be alive, but maybe it was also because he was also once willing to turn to magic for a cure if it meant saving his daughter.

He thought about when Morgana had fallen down the stairs. Gaius had reported that her cranium was broken and that he had no cure for her internal bleeding.

'_You're not understanding me, Gaius. Cure her. I don't care what remedy you use. In all these books there must be something. Something in the Old Religion?'_ he had pressed the physician.

Gaius had looked shocked and whispered back to Uther, _"Are you suggesting…"_ he hadn't even dared to finish that question.

Uther hadn't skipped a beat in giving his response. _"Sorcery, yes." _He was willing to risk everything for Morgana. He was her daughter. In everyone's hearts there's always someone who was the most important, even more important than Camelot. For Uther, it was his children.

"Sire?" Agravaine's voice pulled Uther away from his thoughts.

"I am not saying that she shouldn't be punished for her sorcery, but perhaps I have rushed into making a decision too soon." As the morning of Morgana's execution drew nearer, the reality that Morgana would be _dead _was becoming all too real for Uther.

"You have always been a fair and just king." Agravaine led with praise. "I am just concerned that your affection for the Morgana you once knew has clouded your better judgment."

"Are you challenging my decision?" Uther bristled.

"Never I, Sire. But I fear that not everyone will accept your decision."

"Accept my decision? I am the king, Agravaine."

"I do not deny or challenge that, Sire, but Morgana has done too much damage to your kingdom. The citizens of Camelot demand justice. I fear your people will revolt against you if they see you toss your policies aside for Morgana."

Uther knew Agravaine was right. How could he face his court and tell them that he would not execute the woman who had caused the majority of Camelot's strife in recent years? There would be too much public outcry, and he had not been back in power long enough to feel confident that he could suppress any uprisings.

"I see your point, Agravaine." Uther conceded. "Very well, I trust that you have made the appropriate arrangement for tomorrow. You may leave me now."

With a deep bow, Agrvaine departed the king's chambers.

Agravaine seethed as he walked through the halls of Camelot. He hated Uther more and more by the minute. Had the king forgotten who he was talking to? Not only had Uther caused the death of Agravaine's sister, but he had betrayed her by fathering Morgana and was now dishonoring her memory by trying to save his bastard daughter. Agravaine could hardly believe that Uther would have the audacity to speak of such a subject with him of all people! It was too late for the king to have any doubts now. The stage had been set and Uther's death trap was waiting for him.

* * *

There was no issue in saving Morgana from her execution. Merlin only needed to don his Dragoon disguise and snatch her away with a simple teleportation spell. The cuffs were an additional hassle, but one that could also be easily addressed. He wasn't sure if his own magic would be enough to free her from those shackles. After all, they had held the Great Dragon in place for many years, but perhaps they were weaker now that they had been reforged. Still, Merlin didn't want to take any chances, and he had kept the sword taken from one of the Knights of Medhir, hidden under his bed. A simple transfiguration spell turned the sword into a walking stick for the time being, and Merlin was pleased that his plan had come together so well on such short notice.

Merlin would have liked to rescue Morgana before the dawn of the execution. His preparations was ready, but the question remained of where to take her and what to do with her. He had wanted to keep her in Camelot, keep her near him so he could help her, but that seemed impossible now. He would need more time to sort through those questions, and so Merlin decided he would wait until dawn to free Morgana. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of using magic so publicly, but it couldn't be helped. It was a decent plan, and Merlin secretly wanted to see the look on Uther's face as he and Morgana disappeared.

"What's wrong, Merlin?" Gaius had been watching the young Merlin poke at his oatmeal and glance at the clock for the past fifteen minutes.

"Nothing, Gaius." Merlin couldn't tell Gaius of his plan. Even though he'd find out eventually, Merlin knew that Gaius would only try to dissuade him from saving Morgana.

"You're thinking about Morgana, aren't you?" The old physician knew Merlin well enough to guess what was on the young warlock's mind. "Don't do anything rash." Gaius knew Merlin still felt guilty over poisoning Morgana, but she wasn't worth risking his own safety over.

"Never, Gaius." Merlin smiled ruefully. He gave his uneaten oatmeal one final stir before rising from his chair. "I've got something I need to take care of, Gaius. If Arthur comes looking for me please tell him I'm running an errand for you."

Gaius sighed. "Be careful, Merlin. I really mean it. I don't know what you have planned, but there will be guards and knights surrounding the citadel today."

"Nothing Dragoon can't handle." Merlin winked.

"I suppose that's true. But Merlin, about Morgana— I know you think you can reach her, but she's spent far too much time with Morgause to be changed now. Whatever it is you have planned, I hope you've thought about the consequences as well."

Merlin knew that already. Saving Morgana could be either the stupidest or smartest decision. But he had a plan, and he was going to follow through with it. His heart told him it was the right thing to do, and he wouldn't turn back now.

Merlin ducked into his room quickly, grabbing Dragoon's red robe, his transfigured walking stick, and a dark cloak, before slipping out of Gaius's chambers and heading to the lower town.

He was surprised by how empty the town was. Literally everyone had paused from their normal activities to gather in the main square for Morgana's execution. Merlin easily found a quiet alleyway and with one last quick check to make sure he was alone, he slipped on his robes and whispered his aging spell. When he was satisfied that his body had stopped changing, he threw on his cloak— making sure to cover his face— grabbed his walking stick, and hobbled his way back into the main square.

* * *

The kingdom had been abuzz the past few days with the news of Morgana's return. Some of the townspeople had seen her arrival with the knights, and they quickly told their friends about how the evil witch had been captured and was going to be brought to justice. Everyone thought it was quite odd though, as a day had passed, then another, but Uther had never brought her before his court and formally sentenced her. However, it seemed as if preparations were being made for her execution. Certainly Lord Agravaine was planning her hanging, and he made it a well-attended event.

Uther expressed to Agravaine that he wished Morgana's execution to be a quiet event. The king honestly took no pleasure in condemning her to death. Rather, her execution was just a personally painful, but necessary task. The knights would be there, of course, and his councilmen, as well as some of the citizens from the lower town, but Uther didn't feel that her execution needed to be publicized to the entire kingdom. They could find out after. Her execution should remain as much a family affair as possible.

But Agravaine needed the square to be overflowing with people attending Morgana's execution for his personal plan to work. A few well-placed whispers to some giddy young squires and a free round of drinks for them at The Rising Sun ensured that the news of Morgana's execution would be quickly spread through Camelot.

Sneaking Tristan and Odin's men into Camelot was surprisingly easy as well. They carried no weapons and dressed like commoners so the guards at the gate readily believed them when they said they had traveled from Willowdale to witness the execution.

Agravaine made sure to station the most junior of guards to where Tristan and his men planned to set up. The problem with Camelot's soldiers was that they didn't all recognize each other. It was fine for the most part, because all they needed to recognize was the Pendragons and the members of Arthur's round table, but this would work in Agravaine's favor now. Once they had changed into Camelot's uniforms, all Tristan needed to do was march up to the patrol and tell them orders had changed. He carried himself in a stately manner, and wore the crimson cape adorned with the gold crest of the Camelot's mighty dragon, so the young guards were quick to heed his words, embarrassed that they didn't recognize one of Camelot's illustrious knights.

Tristan stationed Odin's men in the same positions the real guards were at. Along with the uniforms, Agravaine had left swords and crossbows for Tristan's group. They had everything they needed to succeed; all that was left was for the Pendragons to arrive.

From Alator, Morgana had learned how to control the anger that seemed to always bubble up when it came to Uther and Camelot. It was back now, exacerbated by her conversation with Uther and the time she spent in the dungeons, and as she marched through to the main square to take her place on the hanging block, she looked scornfully at all those who had gathered.

She turned to the ladies of the court, dressed in elegant finery and clinging to the arms of their men. She used to be one of them, a fine lady of Camelot. As the ward of the king, she had the best dresses and the finest jewelry. But compared to those lavish gifts, what she truly treasured were the gentle memories of the king and the time they spent together. That was all they were now— memories of the past. She had made her choices, and he had made his, and she was starting to regret ever healing the tyrannical king.

She looked at the families of the town, clutching their children closely to them, looking at her with a mixture of fear and disgust in their eyes. She felt a little remorseful then, and wondered how her actions had impacted the innocent citizens of Camelot, but her attention was quickly drawn away by the trumpets' fanfare announcing the entrance of Uther and Arthur.

Right on cue, Uther and Arthur walked onto the balcony of the Castle, followed by Agravaine and a few of Camelot's knights and councilmen. Glancing out at the square, Uther was very surprised by the sheer number of attendees. It seemed as if the entire lower town was there, as well as citizens from different parts of the kingdom.

"I thought I told you to keep this quiet," he hissed at Agravaine, who was standing to his right.

"I assure you I had nothing to do with this crowd. I had instructed a squire or two to sent word to the hangman that we required his services. Other than them, only your knights were aware of the execution; not even the guards know what they are stationed for."

"I'm afraid I know what happened, Sire," Sir Leon interjected. "I had seen a group of our squires at the tavern, and they were bragging about how the witch was going to be hanged. I assure you I had them disciplined for their loose tongues."

Uther grunted. Agravaine should have known better than to entrust any tasks to some young squires. They were slow to action but quick to brag. It was disconcerting to see how fast word had traveled and how many people had dropped what they were doing to make the journey to the Castle for Morgana's execution.

Uther walked to the edge of the balcony. "Citizens of Camelot," he started, gazing at the sea of faces before him.

Tristan motioned for his men to prepare their crossbows. He wouldn't shoot the Pendragons himself. Their vantage point from the battlement overlooking the main square was indeed the best location to target the king and prince, but it still required a true aim from a skilled archer.

"Over twenty years ago, magic was driven from our kingdom. Since then, we have made great strides in eradicating all magic in our realm. But in our war against magic, we have not been able to win every battle."

"We will wait until he gives the order to hang the witch." Tristan instructed Odin's men. "As soon as the noose tightens around her neck, we will aim for the hearts of the king and prince.

"The woman standing below me today is not the Lady Morgana we all once knew. She represents one of the battles we have lost against sorcery."

Uther could hear murmurs of agreement in the crowd. He was about to announce her sentence, when he felt that same feeling of dread rise up in his chest. What was he doing? All he ever wanted to do was protect his children from the sufferings of life, and now he going to be his own daughter's executioner? _She had magic. _That awful recurring point came up in his mind again. He _hated _magic. Perhaps Morgana would have to die. He felt that was the fate all practitioners of the Old Religion were condemned to, but did it have to be today? Did it have to be by his hand?

There was a long, pregnant pause as the people waited for Uther to continue speaking. The king was at a loss of words though, and for the first time in a long time, he looked at Morgana— and saw her for who she truly was to him. She was _his _daughter. She wasn't just a ward, a guest in Camelot. She was his flesh and blood. He had gotten so accustomed to keeping her at an arm's length because she was only supposed to be his ward that he had forgotten how much he was willing to fight for his children. He looked at her, as she stood there in his citadel, trembling and dirty, eyes full of pity and hate. And for the first time, he asked himself: _how much of this is my fault? _

"Yet she was my ward." He paused to clear his throat. "She is my daughter," he continued, "my responsibility. Her failings are my own."

Tristan knew where his speech was going. He had felt the shift in Uther's attitude during the long pause. He saw realization and remorse written all over the king's face. It was the same face he made when Tristan blamed him for killing Ygraine.

"_Her blood is on your hands," he accused, as they exchanged blows. "You cannot continue to blame others, to blame sorcery, for your own faults."_

_Uther parried Tristan's latest attack, stepping to the side. "I loved your sister. I would never have caused her any harm. Never again will I allow sorcery in my kingdom. That is what killed Ygraine."_

"_You are a hypocrite and a fool." He smacked Uther's blade with his own before taking a quick step forward and lunging with his sword. Once again, Uther deflected his attack to the side, but Tristan quickly regained control of his sword and made a diagonal cut up, nicking Uther's shoulder. _

"_She was my queen," Uther bellowed in rage. "My wife, my love." Their swords met again, both men refusing to let up._

"_Then take some responsibility for what you've done to her. For the fate you've condemned her to." Tristan put more power behind his sword. He was going to see Uther die for what he had done. _

"_It is not my responsibility to take," Uther insisted. With a quick flick of his wrist, Uther forced Tristan's blade out of his hand._

"_I pity you, Uther Pendragon," Tristan spat, knowing he lost this battle. "When will you ask yourself how much of this is your own fault? I swear I will come back and avenge Ygraine. This is far from over." Those were the last words he uttered. But as Uther's cold blade ran through his chest, he saw the king's face, and instead of anger, all Tristan saw was remorse and self-doubt. _

Tristan could see that the king had had a change of heart. This wasn't going to be the day that Uther condemned Morgana to death; it was going to be the day he pardoned her.

"On my mark," Tristan commanded his men. He grabbed a crossbow himself, taking aim at Morgana. If Uther wasn't going to execute her, he was. The witch was a Pendragon after all, a bastard child at that, and he had come to end their line.

Yes, Uther had decided. He wasn't going to let Morgana die. Damn his policies and damn the consequences. The people would have to abide by his decision.

"Fire." Tristan gave the word.

It didn't even matter what Uther was going to say now. Like everything else that had transpired in their relationship, Uther's actions were going to be too little, too late.

**A/N: Happy (almost) New Year guys!**

**As always, please feel free drop me a review and let me know what you thought!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I was just catching up on the deleted scenes from volume 1 of series 5, and the scene between Merlin and Arthur in episode 6 is too good. I'm sure most of you have already seen this, but just in case you haven't, you definitely should! When Merlin tells Arthur it's not his fault that Morgana's so twisted because "there were others better placed to help Morgana," I remembered why Mergana was my OTP. Oh Merlin, why didn't you speak up! **

**I am continually so grateful for all the support and encouragement I've received. Thanks again for all the favs and follows. Extra extra thanks to my reviewers: nochance, Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714 (I'm working on it! I'm getting attached to Uther and Morgana's relationship, but I don't know if they'll get a happy ending), Straight Edghe, Kianix, Kreeger (thanks, your reviews always make me smile!), Black Alnair (Thanks so much! There's more Mergana to come! I started this fic in a not-so-ideal point in the show to delve straight into romance haha), Jedimasterawesome, Olive, Narutoske, Rya3SaberVltar, Guest (Your review made me smile so much haha. Thanks!), amberW (aww, thanks so much!), renessaincbooklover108 (haha, hope you had a great new year!), IndiaMoore (good ol' Merlin :)), meva desa (Thanks so much for your kind words!), Whitepurity, and meee18 **

**Disclaimer: If Merlin belonged to me, I would lend Percival some chainmail to cover his arms so he stops getting wounded there. **

Merlin didn't see it coming, but Leon did.

Merlin was working his way to the front of the crowd, so Morgana would be within easy reach. The square was already packed, and pushing his way though was much more difficult now that he was 80 years old. Sir Leon was the ever-ready knight though, more interested in the security of the castle than the actual event, and as he surveyed the citadel, he caught sight of Tristan and his men. He thought it was odd that three of the men had their crossbows out— hadn't they learned the proper way to patrol the perimeter? It was in the middle of that thought that he realized the true intent.

"Your majesties!" he shouted, warning them of the danger. Moving quickly, he pulled Arthur down, shielding the prince with his body. He acted just in time, as the arrow just whizzed through where Arthur was standing and struck one of the guards standing behind them.

Uther He had been looking at Morgana when Leon cried out and glanced up to see Leon tackling Arthur to the ground. He should have been more focused on himself, as the arrow of the second archer hit him squarely in the chest. Uther staggered backward, and Agravaine reached up to hold him steady, a faithful brother to the end.

Simultaneously, Tristan had aimed for Morgana's head, eager to end the entire Pendragon line. Merlin's magic was faster though, and as soon as the arrow came into his line of vision, he was able to stop it, snapping the arrow harmlessly in half before it hit its target. Morgana held back a gasp, and looked around to see who had stopped the arrow and then where the arrow had even come from.

This wasn't part of Merlin's plan, and he squinted up at the balcony to see if anyone had been hurt. He couldn't tell that Uther had been stuck, and he let out a huge sigh of relief when he saw Arthur's head pop up to take a look at their attackers. They were in a bad position, pinned down on the balcony. Camelot's guards carried swords and spears but not crossbows or shields, and any movement towards the door to the Castle was met by more arrows from the assailants.

Merlin couldn't just leave Morgana, but he had to stop the assassins. He knew he was going to regret this, but he couldn't think of a better plan at the moment. He was only a foot away from the stage, and so he ran up and grabbed Morgana, the guards all too preoccupied attempting to control the screaming citizens that were all running toward the gate, trying to flee the square.

"What are you doing? Who are you?" she had protested, trying to pull out of his grasp. She couldn't see his face underneath his cloak.

There wasn't time to give her an answer, and his only response was a spell. "Astýre ús þanonweard!" he whispered, and without a sound, the two of them teleported away from the square.

The original plan was to teleport her out of Camelot, to Dragoon's hut, where he would have the upper hand and finally have a chance to figure out what was going on with her. Instead, they reappeared on the battlement where Tristan and his men where shooting from.

With one hand still gripping Morgana's arm, Merlin raised his free hand, shouting "Oferswing," and the two men who had been aiming at the balcony flew backward, hitting their heads on the hard stone wall and passing out.

"Fall back," Tristan called out to the two remaining men who were guarding the entrances to the battlement. "I'll take care of this." Tristan dropped his crossbow and unsheathed his sword.

Merlin wouldn't let any the men escape though, and he let go of Morgana for just a second to stop the men running off in different directions. "Hleap on bæc." One of the remaining assailants flew on his back, but Tristan had stepped in front of the other, and Merlin's spell seemingly had no effect of him. "Get out here," Tristan hissed to the only man left, and with a quick nod, Odin's soldier disappeared into the tower connected to the battlement.

Morgana wondered if she should also run away. She had the perfect opportunity now, but she was curious about the man who had saved her and the man who had shot an arrow at her. He clearly had been targeting Uther and Arthur as well, so he was an enemy of Camelot, but why was she also a target? Besides, couldn't he just wait until after Uther had given the command to have her hanged? These questions weren't that important now though, and Morgana inched toward the tower, thinking about how she would make it out of the citadel without being recaptured. She was nearly to the door when she stopped abruptly. Her best chance of getting out of Camelot was the sorcerer who had saved her. Perhaps he was sent by Alator, and perhaps he would be able to free her of the wretched shackles that bound her magic.

Tristan also wondered who the hooded man was. Camelot was no friend to those who possessed magic, so why was this sorcerer here? He was furious his plans had been ruined and he would make this man pay dearly for interfering.

"Oferswing," Merlin tried again, seeing Tristan advance with his sword. His spell had no effect and Tristan was soon upon Merlin.

Merlin could do nothing but block Tristan's attack with his walking stick. Tristan's strength was much greater than Merlin's though, and Merlin staggered backward, the hood of his cloak falling off his head.

"Emrys!" Morgana could not hold back a cry of surprise. She was shocked that once again they had crossed paths within Camelot, and that _he_ had been the one to save her.

Tristan only laughed, he couldn't believe he was fighting such an old man. "Are you really going to fight me with your walking cane?" he taunted.

"Ahatian!" Merlin cried, undeterred by their difference in physical strength, and Tristan's sword heated up, the blade and the hilt glowing bright red.

Tristan only gripped his sword harder, and instead of the searing of human flesh, Tristan's hand remained unscathed. "Do you have any more petty tricks up your sleeve, sorcerer?" Tristan swung his sword at Merlin, who again blocked the strike with his cane.

Merlin didn't understand how this man was impervious to all his magic. He could do nothing but block Tristan's attacks, and he felt his strength quickly waning. Tristan's attacks were relentless, and he soon had the warlock backed up against the wall. Tristan held his sword lazily, swinging it around with a quick flick of his wrist. "Come on now." He pointed his sword at Merlin. "I'll even let you attack me." Tristan relaxed his hold and dropped his sword to his side, challenging Merlin to come at him.

Merlin was tired. His body was not meant for fighting, and he had lost count of the places that would be bruised because of this fight. He would not lose though, and he had a clever idea. He propped himself up against the wall and with a burst of strength, lunged his stick at Tristan, meaning to transfigure it back into a sword at the last minute and run Tristan through. The 'younger' man was quicker though, and lunged forward to meet Merlin, grabbing hold of the stick and wrenching it out of Merlin's hand, throwing it to the side. With a swift kick to Merlin's gut and an elbow to his head, Merlin's battered old body hit the stone floor with a thud.

Tristan kicked Merlin's side, rolling him over so he could see his face. "No more tricks?" he sneered. "You do know that your death with mean nothing to Uther." He still didn't know why this old man had stepped in, but he didn't really care anymore.

Merlin groaned, racking his mind for a spell that would get him out of this situation. Nothing was coming to mind and Tristan's sword was fast approaching his head.

It never reached him though, as Tristan suddenly took two large steps backward. Merlin looked up to see none other than Morgana, making good use of her cuffs using them to place Tristan in a chokehold.

Tristan was a tall man, and Morgana wasn't so much trying to strangle him as she was just trying to keep her foothold while pulling him away from the wounded Emrys. She wasn't sure why she was saving him, and a voice in the back of her mind advised her to just slip away and let the sorcerer meet his end. She couldn't do nothing though, and she told herself it was because he looked like such a pitiful old man at that moment. Besides, she reaffirmed herself, she needed him to get out of the cuffs.

Merlin took Morgana's distraction as a chance to grab his stick and change it back to its original form. Whatever kind of magic this man was using, surely the sword of a Knight of Medhir would be able to wound him. Merlin swung the sword at Tristan, his movements awkward and unbalanced. The sword was too heavy and Merlin was too tired. He was only able to slash Tristan's leg, but Tristan fell from the sudden contact, bringing Morgana down with him. Morgana took this as an opportunity to lift her arms up from his neck and roll away from the dangerous man.

Merlin felt renewed by this little victory. At last he had found his enemy's weakness! He balanced the sword in his hands and moved to deliver one final blow. Tristan wasn't so easily weakened though, and he stood up, bringing his own sword up to block Merlin. Merlin's eyes flashed gold, strengthening his attack, and the sorcerer's sword completely slashed through Tristan's, breaking it in half, before cutting down into Tristan. Merlin pulled at the sword, slashing deeply through Tristan's shoulder into his chest, before pulling back.

That was the end of that. Merlin was confident that Tristan would fall at any second from his injuries and the warlock sank down against the wall in relief and fatigue.

Tristan didn't fall though, and Merlin knew he was in real trouble. Tristan was no longer amused by the old man's antics. Arthur was still alive, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the knights of Camelot in the main square, readying themselves to march up the tower. He wanted to dispose of the sorcerer and Morgana as quickly as possible. He had wasted too much time already.

Reaching down into his boot, Tristan pulled out a small dagger.

Merlin was reaching the end of his physical limit. He had done all he could for now, and he crawled toward Morgana, still dragging his sword along. He reached her, and grabbed her once again, eyes pleading with her to not shake his grip off. "Bedyrne ús! Astýre ús þanonweard!" Merlin's eyes flashed gold and a swirl of fog engulfed the two of them.

Tristan wouldn't let them get away, not after all the inconvenience he had been caused, and he quickly threw his dagger into the fog, hoping it would strike one of his targets.

But when the fog dissipated, the dagger remained, and Merlin and Morgana were nowhere to be seen.

Tristan swore angrily, upset he had missed his opportunity to end the two of them. He had to leave though, and was content that at least one Pendragon would be soon dead.

Merlin was so thankful that he had enough magic to teleport them to Dragoon's hut on the outskirts of Camelot. He really didn't think he'd be able to get them that far, and was worried they'd appear in a swamp or worse, in the middle of a village somewhere. He was in no mood to fend off angry villagers.

There was so much running through Morgana's mind. She had two conflicting streams of thoughts. One part of her brain was telling her to get him to free her quickly, and then lure him into a false sense of security in order to strike him down. He was injured, and she would have no better chance to kill the man that plagued her dreams than this. The other part of her brain was just grateful that she had made it out of Camelot relatively unharmed. She had no one but Emrys to thank and she wanted to figure out who he was. Emrys was truly an enigma. He looked so familiar, but she was sure she would have remembered if they had crossed paths in the past. It was his eyes. Those eyes were so familiar, and she felt like she must have seen him outside of her dreams.

Merlin had barely made it into the hut, nudging Morgana inside before him. Tristan had done a number on him and Merlin felt lucky to have made it out alive. He limped to the bed, using his sword as a cane, and laid down to catch his breath, throwing the sword to the ground. "Wel cene," he whispered, closing his eyes and healing himself. His spell brought but a second of relief before he felt pain course through his body again. He had used too much magic for the day.

He opened his eyes to see where Morgana had gone, and even turning his head caused him to wince. Morgana had sat down in a chair next to the bed, taking in the surroundings. She wondered if this little hut was really where Emrys lived. It was dusty and old, and contained none of the herbs or potions she imagined every decent sorcerer would keep on hand.

Their eyes met, and Morgana felt as though she should offer the poor man some help. "Here, let me take a look." She moved to his side to try and examine him, but her shackles got in the way. "Do you mind?" she asked, hoping he would be able to destroy her restraints.

"I think I'd feel safer if you kept those on for now," he retorted, wincing even as he spoke.

"Don't be stupid, you need someone to take a look at those injuries."

He made an odd sound, something between a snort and a grunt, not eager to acquiesce to Morgana's suggestion. He needed to assess his injuries though and he supposed he did trust Morgana enough to let her help. He had planned to free her _after _they had talked, but he would have to change the timeline.

"Lift up your arms then," he instructed, heaving himself up and picking up his sword. She did so, ready to finally be free of her restraints.

"Ic bebeode þisne sweord þæt hé forcierfe þá bende Morgana . Un clýse!" Merlin carefully aimed his sword and sliced the chains holding Morgana's cuffs together. The cuffs themselves opened as well, and Morgana smiled gratefully before rubbing her wrists.

"Your turn." She walked toward Merlin, wasting no time. "Take off your robe."

Merlin fidgeted uncomfortably. He had no intention of letting Morgana see his bare chest.

"Well?" Morgana asked, waiting for Merlin for move. "You're not going to make me undress you are you?" She raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Merlin pulled his cloak tighter around him, only to feel his muscles ache and his bones groan disapprovingly at his movement.

He sighed, and starting taking off his clothes.

Sure he was disguised as an old man, but Merlin was still a man, and he did have some sort of pride. He wasn't built like Arthur was, but Merlin had never been ashamed of his physique either. His body now was wrinkled and mottled though, and he didn't want Morgana, or anyone for that matter, seeing it.

Still, he disrobed quickly enough, feeling particularly vulnerable. If Morgana could see his discomfort, she made no indication. She went to work looking over his wounds, touching his body to check for broken bones. He recoiled a little at her touch, but her hands were warm, and that at least was a welcomed sensation.

"Ic hæle þina þrowunga," Morgana sat behind him and placed her hands on Merlin, running her palms over the entirety of his back. Merlin felt immediate relief, and his back, though still hunched with age, straightened a little as his bruises disappeared.

Pleased with her work, she got up and walked around to face him, kneeling down and pushing him to sit up straight. Merlin was glad his hair was long, as he was sure that his ears were burning red with embarrassment. Her fingers traced his chest, moving downward and touching a particularly painful part of his ribcage. It was where Tristan had kicked him, and he was sure that on top of the heavy bruising that was already showing, a few of his bones had been broken as well. If he hadn't been so busy avoiding eye contact, Merlin would have been shocked and touched by the look of pain and concern on Morgana's face as she assessed his wounds. Morgana repeated the same procedure as before, and before he knew it, Merlin's pain had been completely erased.

With a sigh of relief, he quickly grabbed his robe, fumbling to put it on. It was silly, but he felt much more comfortable now that he was fully clothed again.

"I suppose I should—" He was going to thank her but interrupted himself with a yawn. Damn his elderly body.

Morgana stifled a laugh. There was no doubt that this sorcerer had great magic, but he was just such an old, ridiculous man. "Go to sleep, Emrys." She felt a weird rush of affection for her savior.

He was so tired. With his old self, he ached all over to begin with, and the use of his magic and the physical exertion of the day were too much. He hoped his aging spell would hold. The last thing he needed right now was Morgana finding out his true identity. He was just going rest his eyes for a little while, maybe just ten minutes. Yes, a tiny nap would be fine, and he and Morgana could speak at length after. "You will be here when I wake up." It was both a statement and a request.

Merlin was too spent, and they both knew that Morgana could easily take control of the situation. He felt she wouldn't use her magic to harm him, at least not today. They had survived the morning's events together, and the more time Merlin spent with her, the more he was starting to see the good in her being tentatively drawn out. He hoped she would be there when he woke up, and this would be the beginning of a new chapter for her.

Morgana found a thin blanket from one of the cabinets and carefully laid it over Merlin, pulling it up to his neck. Their faces were mere inches apart and she stared intently into his eyes, trying to figure out why they seemed so familiar. "Go to sleep, Emrys."

She took a seat next to his bed, watching him drift to sleep and contemplating what she should do next.

* * *

The total death count was three Camelot guards and three intruders. The first guard died taking the arrow meant for Arthur. The other two died trying to make it from the balcony to the inside of the Castle. They were promptly shot down by the two now-dead assassins. Gaius pronounced two of the intruders death on arrival. They had hit their heads too hard on the stone wall and their skulls had been cracked. The last man was bleeding internally, but still alive when they found him, and Arthur was hopeful that they would be able to extract some information. Half-an-hour later though, Gaius pronounced him dead as well.

The king's condition had not yet been determined. The arrow had missed his heart but Gaius believed that Uther may suffer from internal bleeding. They were working first to cool his fever, and Gaius promised to alert Arthur as soon as there were any changes.

Arthur wanted to help, but it seemed as though there was nothing he could do. Gaius was tending to the king, Sir Leon and a few of the other knights were investigating the origins of the attackers, and Sir Percival had led a small patrol to make sure all the townspeople were alright.

"Sire, please, you've just been targeted. You must sit down. You must rest." Agravaine urged, and Arthur let his uncle lead him to his seat in the throne room.

"How could this have happened, Uncle?" Arthur wouldn't even ask about who the assailants were until he heard back from Leon. Camelot had too many enemies but he thought at least they'd all be safe within their own castle walls. "And who was that sorcerer?" There was too much for Arthur to process. He was concerned that they were facing a magical enemy, but even though the mage disappeared with Morgana, it seemed as if he had helped stop the assassins.

"We will get to the bottom of this," Agravaine promised. He walked to Arthur's side and rested a hand on the prince's shoulder. "We should be thankful that Sir Leon acted quickly today. Camelot will not fall while it still has its prince." Agravaine smiled warmly at Arthur.

Arthur covered Agravaine's hand with his own. "Thank you, Uncle. Camelot will not fall while it has the loyalty and strength of good men such as Leon and yourself."

"Sire," Leon walked into the throne room, bowing before walking up to Arthur. "We found this on the bodies of the attackers. He held out two rings bearing the design of a wolf's head. "This is the crest of Odin's kingdom."

Arthur took a ring and examined it. "Those were definitely Odin's men. He bestows these rings to those in his elite guard. No doubt those two were some of his finest archers." He dropped the ring back in Leon's palm. Arthur decided he would focus on the problem at hand. Dealing with the sorcerer and Morgana was also a priority, but that would have to come second.

Arthur pondered what the best step in this situation would be. "Uncle, what do you suggest we do?"

"I would not hurry to war, Sire, though I believe we must eventually strike Odin's kingdom to show that such actions will not be tolerated."

"So what would you have me do for now?"

"The problem lies in how these men breached the walls of Camelot. As I have stated before, I believe we have a traitor in our midst. Your life was endangered at the Valley of the Fallen Kings and again, now in your own castle. We must find this traitor first. He is the biggest threat to Camelot right now."

Agravaine's words sounded wise to Arthur. There was no need to rush to war. Arthur believed Gaius would pull through and heal his father. They would find the traitor and bring him to justice. That was the best way to ensure the safety of Camelot.

"Leon, find the patrol that was stationed where the intruders attacked from. Find out what happened," Agravaine delegated to the knight.

Leon looked to Arthur for confirmation, and when the prince nodded, Leon responded, "Right away, my lord," before departing the room to complete his latest task.

Agravaine soon left the prince to his thoughts. Uther was all but dead now, and if he didn't die within the week, Agravaine would personally make sure something came along to speed up the process. It was more important to get in touch with his brother and find out what had gone wrong.

* * *

Odin was pleased enough to hear that Uther Pendragon had been mortally wounded. He had not heard any news out of Camelot of the king's injuries, but he was sure that Uther's councilmen were doing everything in their power to make sure none of the other kingdoms knew about Uther's weakened condition.

He trusted Tristan more now. Odin understood better than anyone that assassination attempts rarely go as planned, and he was satisfied by the progress Tristan made. The loss of two of his best archers was a shame, but he was impressed to hear from his sole returning solider that Tristan had stepped in to let him escape. Tristan had all the qualities of a good ally.

Tristan assured Odin that Uther would be dead soon, and Odin's own solider reported that he had seen the arrow strike Uther squarely in the chest. It would only be a matter of time before his death would be announced.

Odin could wait. He would continue training his army in the meantime. He was sure that once Arthur Pendragon took the throne, Camelot would start crumbling down around him. The boy was too young and inexperienced. He looked forward to the day where he would meet Arthur in battle and strike down the murderer of his son— though he wouldn't disregard another attempt at assassinating the soon-to-be king if the opportunity presented itself.

"What will you do now?" he asked Tristan at the end of his report.

"There is something I want to investigate while we wait."

"Oh?" Odin was curious about what could have possibly captured the interest of the undead Tristan de Bois outside of the lives of Arthur and Uther.

"There is a sorcerer who goes by the name of Emrys. He was the one that rescued Morgana and the one who attacked your men."

"I have not heard of the name Emrys." Odin frowned, wondering if this strange warlock would be another obstacle in his path. "If he is an ally of Morgana, he should be no ally to Camelot."

"I do not know where Morgana's loyalties lie."

"She is a Pendragon, but in name only. I have no doubt she hates Uther and Arthur almost as much as I do."

"Perhaps, but she is a Pendragon nevertheless. Uther still cares for her, and she may still care for him."

All the kingdoms knew how Morgana had attacked Camelot countless times, but Tristan had heard from his brother that Morgana _may _have helped Uther recover from Odin's previous assignation attempt.

"I'm sure she harbors nothing but ill will towards Camelot now." There was no way she could still love her brother and father after they had sentenced her to death.

Odin was right. She could only want to see Camelot fall after the way Uther had treated her. Morgana wasn't important in Tristan's revenge. He didn't mind seeing her dead, but besides the name she carried, Tristan had no quarrel with the witch. If she could be used in bringing down Arthur, he could let her live. Her magic could prove to be a useful tool in his revenge.

And after all, what would cause Arthur more pain than to realize it was his only remaining family who facilitated his downfall? Uther would pass from this world soon, and nothing would give Tristan greater pleasure than for Arthur to gaze upon the faces of his uncles and his sister as he met his demise.

Besides, he could always kill her last.

The Dochraid was right when she warned Agravaine that Tristan would be a more ruthless man if he were brought back to life. Tristan had a plan, and it was something neither Agravaine nor Odin could have ever imagined.

**A/N: Will Morgana be there when Merlin wakes up? Will his aging spell wear off while he sleeps? What is Tristan planning? Will Uther die? Stay tuned for next chapter and R&R!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: So much to fit in and so little time! Less Merlin screen time this chapter because our baddies are back in the picture, but don't worry! **

**Thanks to all my readers! As well, my wonderful reviewers: Kreeger (Aww thanks! And good call haha), NeroBlueRose, Straight Edghe, Mike, Narutoske, Kianix (Thanks! No idea! I had originally planned this to be less than 20, but I think it'll be more), Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, Rya3SaberVltar, Sacred3, JAIMOL, Guest (haha, thanks so much for your detailed review! They feel short to me too until I realize I'm like on page 10 in a word doc. Camelot always seems to be busy/in trouble, but I'm planning some quality slow-paced Mergana time eventually), nochance, meee18, IndiaMoore, Whitepurity, LadyDunla (Thanks! There's no such thing as a late review. Tristan's only going to get darker from here, eek)**

**You guys are all awesome and keep my creativity rolling for this story!**

**Disclaimer: If Merlin belonged to me we would have a season six with Morgana and Merlin being friends. **

Arrow wounds were tricky business. Unlike swords, arrows were easily embedded in a person's body, and if not carefully removed, could break off inside. That wasn't the only problem. Arrow heads were commonly jagged and double-barbed, and the process of pulling the arrow out, no matter how carefully done, could often result in more internal injury as the arrow head scraped through the flesh on its path out.

Gaius had refrained from removing the arrow until he could assess the situation better. Uther's blood loss was not significant, and it was more important to bring down his fever and help him regain consciousness.

It didn't help that Agravaine was looking over his shoulder the entire time. "How is his condition, Gaius?" Agravaine asked constantly.

"The same as it was five minutes ago," Gaius replied as civilly as possible. He needed more clean towels and disinfectant, and Agravaine was only in his way. "I can call you when he regains consciousness, my lord."

"That will not be necessary. I will stay by his bedside."

Gaius sighed, and continued treating the king.

Despite working under the critical eye of Agravaine, Gaius had Uther's fever down quickly and the king soon opened his eyes. "Gaius, Agravaine, where am I?" Uther asked groggily, trying to get up from his bed.

"Sire, please lay down." Gaius gently pushed the king back down. "You have been wounded. I have not yet removed the arrow from your wound. You must not move."

"Gaius, I will make sure the king stays on bed rest. Please leave us." Agravaine smiled thinly at the old physician.

"I must insist that I stay. The king's wound needs to be more appropriately treated." Gaius did want to leave the snake of a brother-in-law alone with the king.

"It's alright, Gaius. Thank you for your services." Uther patted Gaius on the arm. "Could you please get Arthur for me?"

"As you wish, Sire." Gaius hesitantly left the room.

Agravaine poured Uther a glass of water as he waited to hear the sound of Gaius' footsteps retreating. "My lord, you must be thirsty." He helped Uther take a sip.

"Thank you. Now tell me what happened this morning."

Uther closed his eyes and listened silently as Agravaine recounted the morning's events. He snarled when Agravaine reported that the intruders were sent by Odin.

"If Odin seeks a war, then a war he shall have." Uther's eyes snapped open, his expression dark.

"The most important thing is for you to heal first, Sire." Agravaine chided. "Odin will still be there when you have recovered."

"How did his men breach the walls of Camelot?" Uther wanted to know what incompetence allowed this transgression to occur.

"I have your knights looking into it. I am afraid we have a traitor in our presence. Actually, that's why I wanted to speak with you in private."

Agravaine had captured Uther's full attention now. "Speak up then, Agravaine."

"There are only a few who possess enough knowledge and access to pull together such a scheme."

Uther nodded in agreement. "You have compiled a list?"

"The list is short, Sire, comprised of only those in your innermost circle. Sir Leon has been Arthur's right-hand man, but I do not suspect him of treachery. Most of the knights have been in your service and would never want to see Camelot fall. However, Arthur has knighted three commoners."

Uther frowned. Arthur had mentioned that he had knighted a few worthy men, but nothing about the fact that they were commoners. "Pray tell."

"There is Elyan, the son of Tom the blacksmith. If you recall, you had sentenced Tom to death for consorting with sorcerers. As well, Arthur banished his sister for her own indiscretions."

Uther did remember Tom, as well as the young serving girl in question. "He is a knight?"

Agravaine nodded in affirmation. "That is not all. There is a man named Perceival. I hear he is from Cenred's kingdom. And lastly, there is a rowdy man named Gwaine, from Caerleon's kingdom. I believe you once had him banished from Camelot," he concluded.

Uther was deeply concerned. He knew Arthur was young and inexperienced, but to break the knight's code? "And you suspect one of them?"

"I do not trust any of them, though if any of them is the culprit, they must have had help."

"What do you mean?"

"There was also a sorcerer at the execution. He took away Morgana and we're not sure what his intentions are. For the moment it seems as though he was not working with Odin's men, but you never know with sorcerers."

Uther wondered when it all went to hell. He had lost his daughter time and time again, and now he was losing his kingdom to the likes of sorcerers and Odin. "Who do you think is responsible, Agravaine?"

"I hate to even suggest this, my lord, but I believe the most culpable suspect is none other than Gaius."

"Gaius? Ridiculous. He has been one of my closest friends and supporters throughout the years."

"I find it hard to believe myself. I would not dare to suggest it if there were a more likely suspect. He is one of the few that had access to Arthur's plan to travel through the Valley of the Fallen Kings."

"Then you must keep looking. What about those commoners?"

"I doubt they are well-connected enough to plan something like that."

"Gaius is an old man. Surely you can't possibly be suggested that he made the journey to Odin's kingdom to plan this."

"He does not have to. Think about it, Sire. Gaius has been by your side for decades. He knows all your secrets and everything there is to know about Camelot. In his capacity as the court physician he has treated many, both friend and foe to Camelot, and his network is far larger than you may imagine."

"What would Gaius have to gain from betraying Camelot?"

"Gaius once dabbled in sorcery. Perhaps he has renounced it since then, but I do not believe the dark hold of magic can be so easily forgotten. Who knows if he is connected to Odin's men, the sorcerer, or both?"

There was truth in Agravaine's words. Gaius had been passionate and intrigued by the Old Religion, but he was also one of the few people Uther called a friend. Uther had not faltered to persecute other who had proclaimed their innocence of magic, but he had pardoned Gaius even after having solid evidence that he once practiced the Old Religion.

Agravaine took Uther's silence as a sign to continue. "As I recall, Gaius put your life in danger by inviting a sorceress to the Castle who poisoned your medicine."

Uther froze. He had forgotten about that woman.

Agravaine caught the look of Uther's face. "And she somehow escaped from the dungeons before her execution…"Agravaine had successfully planted the seed of doubt in Uther's mind.

But before Agravaine could continue, Arthur burst through the doors. "Father?"

"I will leave you two to talk, my lord. Please give some thought to our conversation." Agravaine excused himself.

"Thank you, Uncle." Arthur nodded to Agravaine as he departed.

"You are unharmed?" Uther looked over his son, checking to make sure that the assassins had not harmed his boy.

"I'm fine, father, thanks to Leon's quick thinking," assured Arthur. "It's you I'm concerned about." He frowned at the broken arrow protruding from his father's chest.

Uther waved his hand dismissively. "I've suffered worst battle wounds. We have much more important things to talk about."

"Yes?"

"What progress have you made on finding how Odin men breached our defenses? And what of Morgana?"

"We are still working on it, father. The intruders were dressed as Camelot guards, but no one had seen them except for the men whose positions they took. As for Morgana," Arthur paused. He wasn't even sure what had happened to her. "She escaped with a sorcerer. As soon as I know none of the townspeople have been harmed, I will send some of our soldiers out to find her."

"No, don't. Leave her be."

"Father?"

"What do you think of Agravaine?" Uther changed the subject.

If Uther wasn't injuried, Arthur would have pressed his father to talk more about Morgana. Too long had they danced around Morgana's true connection to their family. One moment Uther wanted nothing more than to bring her back to Camelot, and now he wanted to leave her alone? He'd let it go for now, but there was only so much time Arthur would like his father to put off that conversation. "What about him? He's been a pillar of support for me. It's nice to have family around."

"And you find his advice sound?"

"Yes. Uncle has a firm understanding of the politics of our kingdom."

"He believes there is a traitor in our closest circle."

"As do I. We are searching for him as we speak."

"He believes it could be Gaius."

"Gaius? Never!"

"I am of the same opinion. Arthur, have you knighted commoners?"

"What?" Arthur didn't know why his father was bringing this up now.

"Answer the question."

"Well, yes. But they—"

"And what of the knights code?"

"Yes, I know, father, but—"

"Please, Arthur. This is not up for discussion. I understand you had to step up and take control of the kingdom. You've done a fine job, and I do not wish to argue over something like this when Camelot is in great danger."

"Yes, and those men have proved over and over again that they would do anything to protect Camelot."

"They are a danger to Camelot, Arthur. They have no ties to our kingdom, no deep family roots. Let them go, Arthur, or I'll have to take charge of this matter." Uther's voice was calm but stern, and Arthur understood what his father meant. The last thing he needed was his father banishing, or worse, executing his most loyal knights over a trivial matter such as nobility.

"I have work to do, father." Arthur's expression was cold. He didn't want to upset his ailing father, but he knew Uther was wrong. He wouldn't allow his father to do anything to the faithful men he knighted. That would be an argument for another day. And with that, Arthur exited, yet again angry at his father and wondering where his useless manservant was.

Uther really didn't understand why Arthur couldn't see things from his perspective. He had been king for decades, and the kingdom had flourished under his rule. His son would have to see that his way of doing things was the best. But at the same time, he didn't want to push Arthur away. Uther was getting older, and he was becoming more and more aware of how easily life could end. He didn't want Arthur to remember his father as a cold and tyrannical man, but it seemed harder and harder to see eye-to-eye with his son.

There would be time to think about their relationship later, and Uther turned his thoughts to who the traitor could be. Uther couldn't discount Agravaine's points, and clearly the man had a better understanding of how the kingdom worked than his soft-hearted son. Uther had been betrayed by those closest to him many times before, and there was no reason why Gaius would be any different. He reached for the cup of water on his nightstand. "Damn it," he cursed. He couldn't reach the water without aggravating his wound. "Gaius!" he called out.

And then he stopped, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He wouldn't rush to judgment this time. How many times had Gaius suffered from his rash decisions? Here he was, calling for Gaius' help while thinking the worst of the man.

* * *

Agravaine was giddy. He was finally going to see his brother. They had been in constant contact over letters, but Agravaine longed to see Tristan in the flesh again.

Their reunion was a much less stirring event for Tristan. It wasn't that he didn't wish to be reunited with his little brother, but there were just other things that were more important—namely destroying the Pendragon line.

Agravaine had wanted to meet up with his brother much earlier, but Tristan had maintained that it was better for the younger de Bois to stay within the walls of Camelot Castle.

"I need you to be my eyes and ears. A missed council meeting is a missed opportunity to gain more knowledge to use against Uther," Tristan had insisted in one of his letters to Agravaine.

But now the kingdom was in enough disarray for Agravaine to finally sneak out of Camelot without missing anything important. He had left Uther with much to think about, and the knights all had their own tasks to carry out. The councilmen were doing nothing but fretting over when Gaius would remove the arrow from Uther's chest and if the king would survive.

They met under the cover of the Darkling Woods. It was quick ride from Camelot, but far enough away where they could talk undisturbed.

It was shocking to see Tristan. His older brother had not aged a day since his death while Agravaine was starting to wrinkle and grey. Tristan was the image of health and masculinity, and Agravaine felt a little self-conscious next to his brother. Agravaine sucked in his gut, promising himself he'd lay off the pudding, and wondered how he had gotten so old.

Nevertheless, it was good to see his brother. Tristan's hair was a striking pale blonde like their sister, but his eyes were brown like Agravaine's, and he reminded Agravaine what it was they were fighting for. The two de Bois' embraced, genuine smiles mirrored in each others' faces.

But they did have much business to discuss. "Brother, what happened? Who was that sorcerer you were fighting?" Agravaine needed a better idea of the situation at hand.

Tristan frowned darkly. "I know nothing about that man, save his name. Uther has no friends among those who practice the Old Religion. I can only surmise that he was allied with Morgana, though I know not why they would want to save the men that sentenced her to death."

"What was his name?"

"Emrys."

Surprisingly, Agravaine wasn't all that shocked. Morgana had once warned him that Emrys would be the cause of his downfall, so it was only natural that he would be the one ruining his plans. He didn't know why Emrys would save Morgana though, but didn't like the thought of the two sorcerers being together.

"What is it, Agravaine?" Tristan wondered why his brother's face looked so pale at the mention of the sorcerer's name. "Do you know this Emrys?"

"Morgana had foreseen my death at his hands."

"Fear not, brother." Tristan looked Agravaine in the eye. "He is but an old man, and his powers have no affect on me."

That was right. Tristan had fought Emrys and made it out alive. "Tell me about your encounter with him."

Tristan walked through that morning with Agravaine, recounting how easy it was to slip into Camelot and how he believed Uther had a change of heart. "We shot earlier than I had planned to, but it matters not." He then described how the sorcerer had appeared out of the crowd, grabbed Morgana, and suddenly reappeared on the battlement. "Without his magic, he has nothing," Tristan assured his brother, detailing how easily he overpowered the old man. "The next time we cross paths will be the last."

Agravaine instinctively reached for his locket, feeling reassured that Tristan would have the upper hand against Emrys. He believed in his brother, and it felt good to have someone to rely on.

"I have a plan to find Emrys," Agravaine said. "That same plan will also ensure Uther's death."

* * *

Merlin should have known better than to believe that Morgana would still be by his side when he awoke. Their interactions had always been so choppy and fleeting. She flittered in and out of his life, and this time was no different.

He supposed it was all for the best. His aging spell had worn off by the time he woke from his nap, and that was one secret he wasn't yet ready to reveal to Morgana. Looking out the window to his hut, Merlin was glad it was still light out. At least he hadn't slept for too long. He had to get back to Camelot and see if Arthur needed him.

It wasn't that Morgana didn't want to stay. She had come to accept that her destiny was undoubtedly intertwined with Emrys', and she wanted to know more about him. He intrigued her, and she wanted to know more, but at the same time he scared her. The fact that he looked so familiar nagged at her. She wanted it to be someone she knew, so that maybe they could understand each other better, but at the same time she hoped it was a stranger, not just another person she cared about who let her down. Besides, she had a feeling that they would meet again in the future. She needed to get back to Alator.

Morgana hadn't been sleeping well ever since her return from Camelot. Night after night she dreamt of her doom at the hands of Emrys, and she often woke up in the middle of the night, clutching at her sheets and wishing she had killed the man who plagued her dreams while she had the chance.

But not all of her dreams about Emrys were nightmares. She started having a new dream— a pleasant one at that. She was sitting at her boudoir, putting on a pair of earrings, and she called out to beyond her door.

"Are you ready yet, darling?" she asked.

A man's voice responded, "I can't tell if this is the front or back of my robes, Morgana"

Morgana sighed good-humoredly. "Really now, Emrys? Must we do this every time? I'll be over to help you as soon as I'm finished here. We mustn't keep the people waiting too long."

"And that is why I am lucky to have a Queen like you," Emrys responded, and Morgana could hear his footsteps approach her room as she started to put on her necklace. He was right behind her, his hands taking the necklace from her and closing the clasp behind her neck. "Breathtaking," he whispered into her ear, placing a kiss on her head.

The dream always ended there, with Morgana about to turn around to look at Emrys. She never saw his face though and that frustrated her to no end. She didn't understand her dream at all. In what future would she be married to this old sorcerer and queen of her own land? Her dream self seemed happy though, and despite her confusion toward the dream it was a welcome respite from the nightmares of her undoing.

Alator had been coddling Morgana ever since her return. She had grown to be like a daughter to him, and he had felt so helpless when she had disappeared. By the time he had even heard that she was captured by the knights of Camelot and sentenced to death, she had already been freed and was on her way back home.

Morgana forgot how much she missed Alator until she saw him again. Their reunion was a little awkward but that was also part of what she loved about him. He had been in the middle of writing back to his druid friend in Camelot, seeking an update on the situation with Morgana, when she had walked in. He wondered for a moment if the hours he spent in correspondence with his friends searching for Morgana instead of sleeping had finally taken a toll. "Lady Morgana?" he asked softly, not trusting his vision.

She smiled genuinely, relieved to be home. "It's just Morgana, remember?"

He rushed over to her then, about to envelop her in a hug before stopping short. No, it wouldn't be respectful to hug a High Priestess, he decided. Instead, he clasped her hands in his, and bowed. Morgana laughed, pulling the older man into a hug.

"It's good to be home, Alator," she whispered into his ear with a smile.

He knew Morgana was more than capable of taking care of herself, but he still felt guilty about her ordeal at Camelot. After all, he was the one that asked her to track down the lamia. She would have never been shot, or caught, or imprisoned if it weren't for his selfish request. She assured him that it wasn't his fault, and with a wicked gleam in her eye, told him about how she had given Uther a piece of her mind.

"The man's temper hasn't changed at all," she recalled disdainfully. "Though you should be proud to hear that yours truly scared him out of a room, even while being chained up."

Alator was glad that Morgana seemed alright but he was still worried about her.

She wouldn't tell him much about her few short days in Camelot, but he heard her talking in her dreams. She was naturally blessed with the gift of Sight, but they came to her more frequently now. There were times when she would scream and times where she would laugh. Either way, none of her dreams provided Morgana with the clarity or the necessary rest she required. Alator was afraid these visions would cause her mind to unravel at the seams, and he vowed not to let her go on any more journeys in his place anymore. He would help her recover, and she would stay in the safety of his tower.

It was good to be back with Alator. It was a familiar and safe place, but Morgana found her mind wandering back to Camelot.

Her role in Camelot could have been easily organized into three categories: look pretty, make pleasant conversation, and tease Arthur. It had been an easy life, but one lacking a meaningful purpose. It was different for Arthur. He was groomed to become the next king. He spent much of his time training the knights and patrolling the kingdom, but his responsibilities spanned beyond the battlefield. He had to understand the kingdom's finances, from the costs of living for his citizens to wheat transactions in the kingdom, and appropriately levy taxes. He had to meet with Camelot's councilmen and make sure every village in Camelot had a local representative. Morgana's life was entirely within the grey walls of the Castle, her opinion insignificant at the end of the day, but Arthur's life was vivid and impacted the lives of so many people. Morgana lived in Uther's world while Arthur lived in _the_ world.

She would never regret leaving with Morgause, even if she did regret some of their actions together. Uther's world was a place where she would never be able to embrace her gifts. There were times where she wondered if he would have understood if she had revealed her gifts to him. She was his daughter. That had to mean something. And even if he wouldn't acknowledge that, he had made a promise to Gorlois to always watch over and protect her. Nevertheless, it was hard for her to imagine the day where those without magic could live harmoniously among those who did possess magic in Uther's Camelot. When she gazed upon the faces of the townspeople and courtiers that attended her would-be execution, they were filled with either disgust or fear. She supposed they had a good reason to feel that way, but she had felt an overwhelming anger then. Even while shackled, she couldn't help but think how powerful she was compared to the people around her. These were people who had supported Uther in the Great Purge, and for what? His wife had died, but he had gained the son he always wanted. He had used the death of one to commit mass genocide, and his citizens had supported him.

It was this constant moral battle that she tried not to think about. She was like Uther. She knew she had caused the deaths of many, but causing deaths by raising an immortal army or setting free the Dorocha was different than looking a man in an eye and physically stabbing him to death. The destruction she had caused felt far more remote and impersonal. It was easier that way, keeping a distance between herself and the lives of those she had ruined. Her actions always unsettled her, and in the beginning she had wondered if there would be a more peaceful way to make Uther understand that magic wasn't to be hated. Her sister held firm in her beliefs though, reminding Morgana of how Merlin had poisoned her and how Uther had condemned their people, and it became easier for Morgana to ignore the feeling in her gut that told her that her actions were wrong. In the end, she couldn't deny her sister, not after all Morgause had done. Morgause was relentless in her hatred of Uther, but she had a worthy cause. What was most important though, was that Morgause always put Morgana first. She had given Morgana the healing bracelet to stop the nightmares, called off the Knights of Medhir to save Morgana from dying, and sought the throne of Camelot not for herself, but for Morgana. Morgause and Uther were two intensely passionate leaders, on opposite ends of the spectrum, but each willing to do whatever it took to achieve their ends. The difference was that while they both also loved Morgana, Morgause would always put her sister first, even ahead of her own agenda, and with no hesitation. Uther wouldn't. She didn't come first to him. She didn't come first to anyone until Morgause.

But that didn't stop her from wondering how Uther was. She wondered if he was alive or dead. She wondered if he cared that she had disappeared. She wondered what he was going to say. It was a weird thing to say at an execution— that her faults were his— and she wondered what he would have said next. That wasn't to say she wasn't still angry at him. But she had plenty of anger to go around though, for Gaius and Arthur and Merlin, and for all the townspeople of Camelot who were happy to live in a kingdom where the rights of those with magic would not be respected. But while she held much residual anger, she also had a great deal of residual affection for those she once loved at Camelot. Her mind wandered down all these paths, without reaching any firm conclusion. Morgana couldn't focus on her studies, couldn't eat. Her mind was filled with the life and the people she had left in Camelot.

So when Alator announced that he had business in Camelot, Morgana immediately volunteered to go with him.

"Absolutely not." Alator frowned. "Do you wish to complete your execution?"

"Oh, come on, Alator," she pleaded. "It's not as if we'll be in the City."

He didn't respond, rubbing his head nervously.

"You're going into the heart of Camelot?" Morgana understood his silence. "Absolutely not. Alator, what are you thinking? It's too dangerous!"

He wasn't sure whether to frown or chuckle. She sounded like him now. "I am aware," he answered seriously. "It is important. With this, I will have the chance to ensure the safety of my friends and obtain Uther's records of the Great Purge."

"What do you want with Uther's records?"

"There will be a day where Uther, or his son, will have to answer for the crimes committed against the Old Religion. He has baselessly persecuted those he previously welcomed to the kingdom. When that day comes, I will not have the Pendragons destroy the evidence of their destruction. They will be judged accordingly, based on the crimes they have so carefully detailed."

And just like that, Morgana once again realized the importance of the movement against Uther. It was bigger than her relationship with him. Whatever she felt he owed her, however she felt he deceived her, his crimes against the magical community was a thousand times that.

"What do you have to do in exchange?"

"I am to kidnap the court physician and extract some information from him."

Morgana frowned, wondering what precious information the old physician could have. "Gaius? What information does he have?"

"He knows true identity of a man named Emrys."

**A/N: Thanks for reading! It seems like Emrys isn't out of the woods yet! And neither is Uther? And what could Morgana's dreams about being Emrys' Queen mean?**

**Let me know what you thought about this chapter and see you next Friday!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hi guys! This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but I'm swamped with real life commitments right now. Hope you still enjoy! **

**Special thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter: Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714 (Thank you! I'd like to think that after Morgana's betrayal but subsequent saving of Uther would make him a little more thoughtful and less rash), Narutoske (Thanks! She'll have another chance soon!), Straight Edghe (Thank you! I liked the idea of how one decision can change so much, but still not throw off the entire 'course of history'), LadyDunla (Thanks for reading! Morgana has a soft spot for Gaius, so that'll come into play), IndiaMoore, shelle-ma-belle, Rya3SaberVltar (Thanks! And good, it needs to happen haha), Olive (Thank you! You'll get more glimpses of her dream soon), guest (Thanks! The record will come into play later on in the story, and Gwen will be back in the story in the next "arc" of this story), Kianix (Thanks! I'm still deciding if Merlin will tell her or if she'll find out without him, ahh!), Mike, and kwrobes (Thanks so much! I can't wait to write actual extended Mergana interaction haha)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. **

Merlin wondered if anyone noticed his absence. He really wasn't gone that long, and it seemed like everything was under control. He slipped into the Castle, planning to leave his belongings in Gaius' chambers before finding Arthur.

"MERLIN. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!"

Merlin jumped out of his skin. How did Arthur manage to find him right as he walked into the Castle? He sighed, before turning around and putting on a cheery smile.

"Prince Arthur," he greeted.

"Do you have any idea what you've missed? What a mess the kingdom is in? The king could be dying." Arthur's voice was angry and strained. He wasn't mad at Merlin though. Rather, it was a relief to see his manservant's face, and Arthur wanted nothing but to sink into a chair in his room and talk to Merlin.

"I am back now, Sire," Merlin responded, voice full of concern. He could see how much stress Arthur was under. He was shocked to hear that Uther was wounded. He thought the assassins had missed their targets.

"And sadly that's the best news I've heard all day," Arthur retorted good-naturedly.

Merlin smiled. Even since Morgana had saved Uther, he had spent so much time trying to figure her out. He promised himself he would spend more time with Arthur and not lose sight of what he was destined to do.

"Come, Arthur," he touched the prince's arm gently, steering Arthur towards his room. "Let me get you something to eat, perhaps some wine as well?"

"Now you decide to be a decent servant," Arthur jabbed. "I suppose I could eat something. I haven't had anything since the morning." Now that Merlin mentioned it, he felt his hunger sinking in.

Merlin ran down to the kitchens, stopping at Gaius' to talk to the physician. Gaius was nowhere to be seen though, and Merlin was starting to worry that the aftermath of the intruders' attack was worse than he imagined.

Grabbing a plate of cheese and bread and pouring a small pitcher of wine, Merlin made his way back up Arthur's room, ready to have a long conversation with Arthur and find out what happened.

He opened the door to Arthur's chamber only to find Agravaine there.

"Merlin, you're just in time. Agravaine reports that a group of Odin's men have been seen crossing our northern border. Our source believes they are setting up camp in the abandoned village of Dorrock" Arthur clapped Agravaine on the back proudly. "Prepare my armor. We ride out now, cut them off before they journey too deeply into Camelot." Arthur would not let any of Odin's soldiers come within 20 miles of the Castle. He was angry, and now there was a perfect outlet to direct that anger.

Merlin didn't know what to say. He was just in Dorrock— that was where Dragoon's hut was. If there were any of Odin's men around, he would have seen them. Merlin didn't trust Agravaine at all, and he was beginning to see how his absence had allowed the man's influence to grow.

"Yes, Sire," Merlin said hesitantly.

Merlin didn't know what Agravaine was planning. He couldn't be working with Morgana anymore, but he was definitely still up to no good.

* * *

Gaius had succeeded in life by being an intelligent and loyal man. He was mostly known for being the court physician, but he was also the court scientist, trusted council advisor, and his knowledge of the history and genealogies of Camelot came second only to Geoffrey of Monmouth.

He was undoubtedly in the Pendragons' inner circle. They trusted him more than many of their own knights, and Gaius always proved himself to be useful and devoted.

That trust and loyalty was not reciprocated by the royals, particularly Uther. Time and time again Uther had doubted Gaius, succumbing to the baseless manipulations of strangers who knew of the king's hatred for magic. Over the years of his service to the king, Gaius had suffered from the accusations of Edwin Muiden, the witchfinder Aredian, and countless others. He disagreed with Uther's views on magic, and he disagreed with the methods Uther employed to punish those he persecuted, but Gaius never wavered in his support of the king.

He believed Arthur would be a better ruler. The young boy had absorbed all of Uther's good and kingly qualities, and while he supported his father's war against magic, he believed in being reasonable and fair to all citizens.

Above all, Gaius believed in Merlin. He believed in the young boy's destiny, his powers, and his determination. Most of all, he believed in Merlin's good heart. Merlin was kind and open-minded, and Gaius trusted that Merlin would one day right all the wrongs committed in the name of peace.

Of course, it would help if Merlin was ever around. Gaius was worried about Merlin's plan to get though to Morgana. It was too late for her, and every minute Merlin spent trying to help her was another minute Agravaine snaked his way into the minds of the Pendragons.

But there were more urgent matters to attend to. Gaius trusted that Merlin would come home safely and the arrow embedded in Uther's chest needed to be removed.

It wasn't that Uther was paranoid; he just had to be wary of who he trusted. Years of fighting neighboring kingdoms, suppressing local uprisings, and surviving assassination attempts taught him that. It also didn't mean that Uther didn't know how to trust. He trusted Arthur. He trusted Morgana before she had betrayed him. And he supposed he trusted Gaius.

"Now, Sire. Please do not worry. I have every confidence that this procedure will go smoothly." Gaius patted the wounded king on the arm comfortingly. "I will give you an anesthetic, so you will feel no pain. Once the arrow is removed, I will bandage your wound and apply a poultice. If all goes well, you will be back on your feet within the week."

Uther studied the man. He wondered when Gaius had gotten so old. Uther was no young man himself and had a lifetime of battle scars to prove his age, but Gaius' body also betrayed his age— a hunched back, thinning white hair, and sagging chin. Perhaps he had overworked the man. Perhaps he should have provided him with a better room, closer to the heart of the citadel. Perhaps he had doubted the physician's loyalty one too many times. Uther wondered if Gaius resented him for any or all of these things.

"Gaius, wait." Uther wanted to talk to the physician before he went under.

"Sire?" Uther had his full attention.

"Do you remember the day I made you court physician?"

Gaius smiled warmly. "How could I not, Sire? It is one of my fondest memories."

"Mine as well," Uther responded genuinely. "It was a time of great peace and prosperity for Camelot then, was it not? And you are to be credited for much of that."

"You speak too highly of me, my lord."

"It is true. Your passion for healing and kindness towards others is unrivaled. I also trusted your counsel when it came to matters of the state and sorcery."

Gaius tensed. The conversation never ended well when the king started to speak about magic. "I was merely doing my job," Gaius replied humbly.

"And you have always done a fine job," Uther stated. "You do not have an easy job, Gaius. I know what I have asked of you in the past."

"What do you mean, Sire?"

"You renounced your magic, helped me punish those who you may have once called friends," Uther stated gravely, testing Gaius' reaction.

Gaius sighed. He preferred not to think about those days. "It was a difficult time for all of us. You are my king. I have always supported you."

"But do you ever wish you could go back? Practice magic again?"

Gaius didn't understand how he was supposed to answer the question at hand. Clearly there was only one correct response. "I made my choice then. In all our years together, have I ever given you any reason to believe I doubt my decision?"

"Never," Uther smiled ruefully. Agravaine had to be wrong. Perhaps they would have to take a closer look at those commoner knights.

"Is that all you wanted to talk about, Sire?" Gaius wanted to shift away from the conversation as soon as possible.

"Yes." Uther was confident that his old friend had nothing to do with the assassination attempt. "Wait, one more thing." Another thought entered Uther's mind. "Gaius…" Uther wasn't sure how to ask this question.

Gaius seemed to sense his hesitation. "Please go on, Sire. I am here at your disposal."

Uther took a long breath. "Do you think I'll ever be able to convince Morgana to give up on magic? The way you did all those years ago?"

"I don't know, Sire." Gaius really didn't. It was much easier for him to stop practicing magic. He was a novice at it anyway, lacking the natural gifts of those like Morgana and Merlin. Besides, he _needed_ to renounce the Old Religion back then in order to survive. Uther had no idea Gaius was hiding the world's most power warlock in his Castle and Uther had no idea that Gaius still preformed small bits of magic when absolutely necessary. "But I don't think she wants to."

Uther thought as much. "I know, Gaius. I offered her everything. I offered to give her old life back to her, and yet she still refused. Will she be forever lost to me?"

"Perhaps it is time to let go of Morgana," Gaius ventured. "Focus on teaching Arthur, focus on what lies ahead for the kingdom."

"I thought I could, Gaius. I really did. I had readied my heart for her execution, but I was about to pardon her when we were attacked."

"Sire?" This was news to Gaius. He knew Uther was willing to push the limits for Morgana, but pardoning her was a huge step that Gaius didn't think Uther understood.

"She is my child as much as Arthur is. No matter what she has done, her death at my hands is too cruel a fate. I could not have gone through with it." Uther looked to Gaius for reassurance.

Gaius didn't know what to say. Morgana would only bring strife to the kingdom. He knew what she was destined for. "With all due respect, my lord, the world is a terribly cruel place. You know that better than I." Gaius' voice lacked emotion. "Your duty to the people comes first."

Gaius looked at Uther, hoping the king would not be angered by his words. The emotions displayed on the king's face took Gaius by surprise, and the physician understood exactly how Uther felt. The king's spirit had been broken by Morgana's betrayal, but the thought of never seeing her again— the thought of her being gone from this world by his doing— would completely destroy Uther. But at the same time, Uther hated magic with every fiber of his being. It had taken his wife, and he had dedicated a lifelong crusade against those who used magic. It was the realization that he could never win that was written all over his face.

Gaius felt bad for him then. Whatever the king had done, he was still human, and Gaius could emphasize with Uther's feelings. "My lord," Gaius sighed, wondering if he'd regret his next sentence. "You pardoned me for practicing magic," he pointed out. "It's not the same with Morgana, but perhaps there may just be room in your policies for another exception." He hoped this would bring some solace to the king, at least before this procedure. "Now please, Sire, we really must get that arrow removed."

* * *

Alator gave in eventually. Going along with him seemed really important to Morgana, and he was not so haughty as to think he could restrict her freedom.

Morgana was worried about the trip. She didn't quite believe that Gaius possessed the true identity of Emrys, but even if there was the smallest possibility that he did, she had to go. She wasn't worried for herself. Now that she could freely use her magic, she would answer to no man. She feared for Alator's safety though. He was powerful, but kidnapping someone out of Camelot was still difficult, and it made her nervous to think that the request came from Agravaine.

If she wasn't so curious about Emrys, she would have refused to let Alator go once he told her that Arthur's uncle was involved.

"He's harmless enough," she frowned, when Alator mentioned his name, "but he's not to be trusted."

Agravaine always gave her a bad feeling. He was passive aggressive, but dangerously so, and he veiled it behind simpering mannerisms. He was not an academic, nor a warrior, but he somehow delicately weaved himself into the royal court, and that made Morgana concerned. She hoped his influence over Camelot had not grown and that he was still harmless enough.

Alator didn't trust Agravaine either. Though his meeting with the man had been brief, he could tell that Agravaine was shifty. "This task will be simple enough," he replied, "and may we never cross paths with him again." Alator tried to stay away from dealing with men like Agravaine, but he would do this task for the greater good. He reminded himself that he was doing this for the druids, for the entire magical community, and perhaps even for Morgana.

Orn had prepared their horses for the trip. The Priest has wanted to come on the journey as well.

"It is too dangerous. If not me, then take someone else. You cannot enter Uther's kingdom with no protection. Any one of us Catha would gladly accompany you."

Alator appreciated the gesture, but he would not allow any of his brothers to be put in harm's way for a deal he had made. He had Morgana, and though he would have to look after her, she was also a powerful ally if they did have to fight.

It would take them a few days to reach Camelot, and it was a good opportunity for Alator and Morgana to catch up.

She had slowly been revealing pieces of her time back in Camelot. She wouldn't speak too much of the king, but she talked of idle things. She spoke of how the lower town looked to have grown and prospered, of how the knights had increased in size. And then on the second evening she spoke of Merlin. Alator had heard a little about the boy. Morgana had spoken about him bitterly and regretfully in the past, of how Merlin poisoned her. She had also recalled him fondly, telling Alator of how Merlin had tried to help her by sneaking her out of Camelot to find the druids.

"It's funny, Alator," Morgana reflected, "He said I was important to him, that he wouldn't let anything happen to me." A small smile tugged on her lips as she recalled that conversation. "He is but a manservant, and I a High Priestess, but I really believed in him that night."

Alator was somewhat glad that she still had some semblance of friendships left in Camelot. She had too many unpleasant memories about the Castle and not enough good ones. He didn't understand what the boy meant to Morgana though, and while he was glad Merlin reached out to her during her imprisonment, Alator felt that there was only so respite a serving boy in the Pendragons' grasp could bring to a girl like Morgana. His words had no power, and he didn't want Morgana believing in empty promises if they would come to hurt her in the future.

"You have more friends than you think, Morgana," he responded. "Perhaps you have used magic ruthlessly in the past, but we have all done things that we later regret. You have a good heart, a strong heart, and the sooner you let go of your past, the sooner you'll realize that they are many who would be honored to call you their friend."

"Hah!" Morgana gave a short but gleeful laugh. "You flatter me, Alator. I would be happy to remain in my current state so long as I can continue to call you my one true friend." She knew she tended to be in a dour mood when speaking of Camelot, and she was glad Alator pulled her out of it.

On the third day, they were nearing Camelot Castle, and Morgana was starting to wonder if perhaps this wasn't the best idea. She was quiet for most of the morning, before suddenly asking a question.

"Do you think Gaius really knows who Emrys is?"

Alator sighed, wondering if he had made a mistake in allowing her to come with him. "My child, is he someone very important to you?" He didn't want to do something that would cause Morgana pain.

Morgana smiled. "He used to call me that. 'My child.' I suppose I cared for him once, as I cared for Uther. It is all in the past though." She hoped she meant what she said.

**A/N: All of my arcs end up taking longer to develop than I originally planned, but expect Merlin and Arthur traveling time next week, as well as Morgana coming face-to-face with Gaius! Drop a review and let me know what you think! Until next week!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Does anyone have any good recommendations for music to listen to while writing Mergana fic? I've been listening to a lot of Mumford & Sons, Lumineers, Birdy, Ed Sheeran, and Death Cab when writing this. **

**Also, if you guys haven't seen this, you should. Search "Merlin & Arthur - You Know Where To Find Me." It's one of my favorite Merlin videos! **

**I know I say it every week, but you guys are all so amazing for reading and reviewing this! Special thanks to my reviewers: Marilia11, Mike3207, Straight Edghe (Thanks! That's exactly why I wanted to write this chapter), Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, Narutoske (Thank you! I never understood why Gaius could be so supportive of Mordred but not Morgana), LadyDunla (Hah! He's pretty much ruining everything :(), meee18 (Thanks! Gaius and Merlin have such a great relationship), Kreeger (Aw, thanks, you always know what to say!), Kianix, Rya3SaberVltar, guest (Haha, thanks! I figure updating once a week isn't **_**too**_** much to do), .10, Sabine8195 (Thank you! Gaius is a great character!), phhsdj (Thank you so much!), Chelsea Crystal (Thanks, I do too :))**

**Disclaimer: If Merlin belonged to me I'd renew it for a sixth season and give everyone a raise!**

Agravaine preferred not to get his hands dirty. He had no problem scheming and hiring mercenaries or assassins, but acting as the perpetrator himself made him nervous.

He was perfectly happy with helping Alator slip into Camelot. The Priest was more than capable of kidnapping Gaius without any help from Agravaine, but at the last minute, Agravaine had found a raven with a slip of paper waiting for him on the windowsill of his chambers. Little did he know that Morgana had convinced Alator to take on less risk.

Uther's procedure had gone smoothly and Gaius expected the king to make a full recovery. He was just applying a fresh yarrow poultice when Agravaine walked in.

The man was like a shadow, Gaius thought, always lurking about without a purpose. Gaius had seen enough of Agravaine over the last few days to last a lifetime.

"How is the king?" Agravaine asked, feigning concern.

"He will survive. With a few more days of rest he should be back on his feet." Gaius responded, hinting that they should leave the king be.

"You did a fine job, Gaius," Agravaine clapped the physician on the back. "Uther could not have appointed a better man to be court physician." Agravaine's smile was forced, and he made no movement to leave the king's chambers. "Let us celebrate!"

"Perhaps we should wait to celebrate until the king is fully recovered." Gaius just wanted to sleep. He had been tending to the king nonstop and his body was begging for rest.

"Just one toast, Gaius," Agravaine insisted. "For all of your diligence and hard work." Agravaine walked across the room to where the king's pitcher of wine was sitting. "Have a seat Gaius, you must be tired. I'll bring the wine to you."

Gaius held back a sigh and walked to the table. If having a drink with Agravaine meant he could leave, then so be it. Gaius lowered himself into the chair, closing his eyes in comfort and relief. He had been on his feet for fall too long, and even the simplest of wood chairs felt wonderful.

Meanwhile, Agravaine had poured two glasses and brought them over to where Gaius was sitting.

"Cheers," Agravaine handed Gaius a cup and clinked glasses.

* * *

Merlin hated that he didn't have a chance to speak with Gaius before leaving Camelot. If anyone, Gaius would have known how the mysterious intruder evaded Merlin's magic. It was an unsettling feeling to know that the assassin was still at large, and Merlin wasn't sure what he could do if the man decided to target Arthur again.

"Merlin." Arthur broke a small branch of a nearby birch tree and threw it at Merlin's head. "Pay attention. Where is your head at?" He needed some light banter with Merlin to distract him from everything on his mind. There was the very real possibility of war with Odin, and the more pressing fact that there was a traitor within the walls of Camelot.

For that reason, Elyan, Gwaine, and Perceival were missing from the patrol. Arthur had insisted they stay behind to look after Camelot. "I trust you above all others. Right now, the city needs stability, and I know you will restore a sense of security back within our citizens."

That was what he had told them, and it was true, but his father's words still nagged at him. He thought nothing but the world of his knights, but experience in the form of Morgana had taught him that even those he cared for the most could betray him.

He could trust no one completely, save Merlin, and his manservant's mind seemed to be elsewhere.

"Sorry, Arthur. I'm just worried. I don't think this was a good idea. We don't know what sort of situation we're walking into. How am I supposed to protect you?" Merlin was still deep in thought. He didn't know if Agravaine had sent them into a trap or if he was just sending them on a wild goose chase.

Arthur appreciated Merlin's concern. "I don't know how you've gotten this idea that you're the one that protects me, Merlin. You didn't even bring a sword," Arthur pointed out good-naturedly.

"Since when have I needed a sword to protect you?" Merlin retorted. He was referring to the Mary Collins incident but thinking of his magic.

Arthur chuckled. He supposed that much was true. Merlin had protected him and supported him time and time again. He had none of the training of a knight, and even his skills as a physician's assistant were dubious, but Arthur would rather travel with Merlin than with the strongest knight or the most skilled physician.

The two friends rode ahead of the patrol. Arthur signaled for the knights in their party to maintain a distance as he wanted to speak with Merlin privately. It was a calming journey— talking with Merlin truly took Arthur's mind away from his worries for a while.

Arthur wanted to hear Merlin's opinion on his father's thoughts though, and he conveyed his concerns. "Was I wrong to make them knights?"

Merlin wouldn't let the prince doubt himself. Uther's inability to see past social class was one of reasons the king had no one he could trust. "You know the answer to that, Arthur. Who do you trust the most of your knights? Who do you bring on all of your patrols?" Merlin didn't need to remind Arthur of how much the newest knights had been through with the prince.

Arthur nodded, taking in Merlin's words. He did trust his men, and their bond of brotherhood was something he felt was unbreakable. The only thing that bothered him was Lancelot's betrayal. Of all his knights, Lancelot was the most honorable and most loyal. He had saved Arthur's life on multiple occasions, but in the end still betrayed him. Arthur would have liked to believe that personal motivations would come second to duty and loyalty to the kingdom, but he knew that was not always the case. Knights of noble birth were tied to Camelot. The success of the kingdom would be mean success and prosperity for their families and estates, but that was not the case for men like Elyan, Perceival, and Gwaine.

"A young prince once said that Camelot was built on trust and loyalty, and that we could never be defeated as long as we stay true to those ideals," Merlin said, when Arthur didn't respond after a few minutes. He snuck a small, sideways grin at Arthur, knowing the prince couldn't argue against his own words.

* * *

In death, he cursed Camelot, but in life, Tristan had loved his homeland.

Camelot was beautiful. From colorful rock cliffs to immense, snow-capped mountains, Camelot was a masterpiece of nature.

Tristan had always been aware of Camelot's natural assets. The de Bois' owned a great deal of land in Camelot, and from a young age, Tristan was taught that nature's resources were a kingdom's greatest assets.

He had not forgotten that lesson.

Tristan had no interest in confronting Arthur's men at Dorrock. He wanted the boy to live long enough to see his father die, but he had to distract the patrol and make them believe that Odin's men had been venturing into Camelot's borders.

He would burn the village, ruin Camelot the way his life had been ruined. Little by little, Tristan would scorch the entire lands within Camelot until there was nothing left of the once great kingdom but ash and dust.

With two small barrels of oil hitched to his horse, Tristan made his way to Dorrock.

It was not hard to start a fire. The town was completely desolate, and the broken houses and fallen fences made the perfect kindling. It took Tristan less than an hour to douse the small village in oil, and with a lazy strike of his flint, the town of Dorrock lit up in flames.

Staring contently at his handiwork, Tristan rode the opposite direction, back to Odin's army.

* * *

Whatever Arthur was expecting to confront at Dorrock, it wasn't a fire. They had seen a cloud of smoke rise above the treetops before they even reached the village. Tristan's fire, spurred on by the wind, was starting to spread out of Dorrock, to the surrounding forest.

With a quick motion to his men, Arthur and the knights spurred their horses faster, riding to the source of the smoke. They did not have to travel long, and soon they were confronted by the immense inferno that used to be Dorrock.

Arthur was quick to take charge. He would not let the fire travel further and harm his people. He motioned to his men. "Surround the fire and clear a path around it." They would circle the fire and clear the debris and branches in the area. Hopefully they would be able to starve it. Arthur dismounted his horse, and got to work.

Arthur and the knights were prepared for battle, not to fight a fire, and so Arthur was on his hand and knees, clearing anything flammable away. That proved to take too much time, and so he switched to using his shield to remove the surround deadwood and vegetation.

Arthur and Merlin exchanged glances. They both knew the fire was too big to contain, but Arthur continued working. He would do everything in his power to keep this fire from scorching away at his kingdom.

Averting his eyes, Merlin cast a silent spell, creating a strong current of air that pushed down on the fire. He held the spell, trying to apply enough pressure to extinguish the fire.

"Faster," Arthur barked at the knights. "The wind is on our side."

Merlin's heart swelled with pride. Sure he used magic to help Arthur along, but the prince always tried to do the best of his ability as well. His cloak was long since abandoned, his voice hoarse from inhaling the all the smoke, and his face sooty, but Arthur preserved, working with renewed strength.

The spell didn't hold. The fire was too strong to be held down by air, and the knights each fell a few steps back when the spell broke and the fire blazed fiercely again.

Merlin needed something more powerful. "Tídrénas," he whispered, glancing to his sides to make sure everyone was too distracted by the fire to see him at work. Merlin looked into the sky, waiting to see if his spell had worked. A minute passed by, then another, and Merlin was starting to wonder if he needed a new plan. Just when he was about to try another spell, he saw clouds start to gather above them. Within the next minute, rain poured from the skies and Merlin let out a sigh of relief.

The knights looked up in wonder, then dropped their makeshift tools and clapped each other on the back. The rain was quickly quelling the fire, and everyone stopped their frantic actions.

"Come on, Merlin." Merlin felt himself being lifted up from his kneeling position and looked up to see Arthur. "We sure were lucky today." Arthur squinted at the sky, confused but grateful at the sudden change of weather. "How strange…" he mumbled under his breath.

"Lucky indeed," Merlin grinned, getting up and trying to shake the smell of smoke off his clothes.

"At the rate you were working, the whole of Camelot would have burned down." Arthur whistled for his horse to come closer, now that the danger was gone, and pulled out two clean cloths from his pack, wiping his brow with one and handing the other to Merlin.

Merlin took the cloth gratefully. He decided he'd like _that_ comment slide and wondered if he could move just one cloud over Arthur's head to rain on the prince.

* * *

Gaius was out like a light. Agravaine had slipped a little sleeping potion from Gaius' own stock into the physician's drink.

After making sure the old man was sound asleep, Agravaine slipped to the back gates of Camelot, where he was met by Alator.

"Hurry up, let's go," he whispered urgently, and the two men snuck through the back stairs of the Castle back to Uther's room.

Agravaine motioned to the sleeping Gaius. "He's all yours. I'll bring the records and meet you at the cave." Agravaine was jumpy. Even though the Castle was emptier due to Arthur's trip, he wanted Alator and Gaius out of Camelot as fast as possible.

Alator would not be rushed. He covered Gaius in a cloak, then put both their hoods on before gently levitating the physician into an upright position.

Alator slipped out of Camelot as quickly as he had slid in. The sleeping Gaius made his task much easier, and Alator couldn't help but feel a weight lifted off his shoulders once he had left the City.

He took a small break. Levitating another person across a Castle was a drain on his magic. After a few sips of water and a final glance at Camelot, Alator lifted Gaius onto a horse before getting on one himself and riding to the caves where he promised to meet Morgana.

Agravaine downed four glasses of wine once Alator departed to calm his nerves. He needed the wine to dull his sense to prepare himself for what he was about to do next.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a second potion containing tincture of belladonna, also from Gaius' stock. Belladonna was a good muscle relaxer and pain reliever, but too much of the drug would cause delirium and disturbances in memory and orientation. An overdose of the drug meant sure death. Agravaine wondered what would be worse for Uther— living an empty existence as an idiot, trapped in his own mind or not existing at all? He shuddered at both thoughts, and poured himself another glass of wine to steady himself.

Steeling his resolve, Agravaine pushed Uther's mouth open and poured the tincture down the unconscious king's throat. Uther coughed, his head twisting and his face grimacing, before swallowing.

It was done. Arthur would return to find his father dead.

Now it was Agravaine's turn. He wanted to ensure he would be above reproach, that everything would be blamed on Gaius. He had already planted books about sorcery in the physician's chambers, and Agravaine poured the remaining sleeping potion into his own wine goblet, before throwing both potion bottles in the trash.

He sat himself down in the chair where Gaius was just sitting, and downed what was left of his seventh glass of wine.

* * *

Morgana was waiting for Alator at the cave as promised. She was glad to see him return safely and moved helped him pull the unconscious Gaius off the horse and into the cavern.

They dragged Gaius through several rooms before setting him down on a smooth slab of rock in the largest chamber. He would let the man sleep for a while. It would be the last respite he would receive that night.

About an hour and a half later, the cool surface of the stone slate jolted Gaius awake, and he looked around groggily, taking in his surroundings. Alator and Morgana had not moved from the room, both unsure of what to say in the situation. Instead, they just waited silently and patiently for their hostage to awake.

Gaius' heart stopped when he saw Morgana in the room, and she met his gaze.

"It's been quite a long time, Gaius." Morgana thought she should be the first one to break the silence.

Gaius was trying to process the situation. He couldn't believe that Morgana had kidnapped him from Camelot. It didn't make any sense. What could she want with him? He hoped that Morgana was changing the way Merlin believed she was, but seeing her here wasn't reassuring.

"What do you want with me?"

"Information."

"Whatever information it is that you seek, I assure you I do not know. Just get on with it, Morgana. Whatever you want to do, just do it now. I'm not afraid to die." Gaius has no interest in being part of whatever horrible plot Morgana had hatched up. He wondered how much time had passed by, and if Uther was alright.

"We have no intention of killing you." Alator stepped in to diffuse the increasingly tense situation, and Gaius looked at his other kidnapper for the first time. "We just need you to provide us with the identity of a man called Emrys." Alator hoped he would not have to torture this man. "Do you know where Emrys is?" Alator stared at Gaius intently, looking for any telltale signs of deceit in their prisoner's answer.

"I don't know anyone called Emrys." Gaius averted his eyes for just a second, but both Morgana and Alator caught his tell.

"I think you do, Gaius." Morgana folded her arms, hoping her old physician wouldn't make this too difficult.

"Do what you will. I will never tell _you _anything, Morgana."

Morgana wanted to be more like Gorlois and less like Uther. Unfortunately, her short temper more closely resembled that of her natural father's. "Yes, I'm quite aware," she quipped. "That's what you're best at, isn't it?"

Gaius looked at the scowling sorceress, wondering what she was referring to.

"Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about, Gaius." Morgana wondered if he could really be so dense as to not know what she was talking about. "My nightmares that you treated with sleeping draughts? You knew I had magic. You knew I was a seer. I have no idea what was happening to me but you did," she accused.

His heart sank at her words and he knew he would not make it out of the situation alive. He wasn't proud of his decision to keep Morgana from discovering her magic for as long as possible, but he was too old now to argue these points. He had made too many decisions in his life that he wasn't proud of. That was just one of many sacrifices he had to make to serve Uther. "I treated you as best I could."

"You treated me with a placebo. You made me feel like I was losing my mind when all along you could have just told me I had magic!" She promised herself that she'd be calm, but she felt her voice breaking. She didn't understand why he of all people would let her feel so scared and alone. "You've been my physician for ages, not to mention you used to practice magic. Did I mean that little to you?" She felt her anger threaten to bubble over and manifest itself in magic.

He couldn't deny her words, but he didn't know what to say to her. There wasn't anything that he could say to make her understand his choice. She was the king's ward. The consequences of helping her understand her magic would be severe. "I've always taken good care of you, ever since you were small. Perhaps you will not believe me, but I helped you the best way I knew how."

Morgana wondered why she kept putting herself into these situations. Seeing him was too hard. She wanted to believe Gaius. He had always been caring and kind to her, but he was just another pawn in Uther's kingdom. She took a deep breath and composed herself. "You could have just told me." There was no bitterness or accusation in her voice. It was a sincere suggestion. Morgana would have never let him risk his neck to teach her about magic or help her develop her powers. "I felt like a monster, Gaius. It would have been nice to know that my nightmares and blowing up vases and setting drapes on fire was, well… okay."

Gaius couldn't bring himself to face her. He forgot how young she still was, and how scared she must have been. It broke his heart to see how much his omissions had hurt her. She sounded just as she did when she was a child. Back then, she was a frequent patient for all the scrapes and scratches she gained from engaging in wooden swordplay with Arthur. She'd put on a brave face when she came to see him, and ignored his concerns about training with the young prince. "But I have you to take care of me," she pointed out with a smile.

It was beyond his power to take care of her now, and Gaius accepted the situation for what it was. He could tell by the tattoos on Alator that he was facing a Catha, a priest who specialized in mental torture. All Gaius wanted to do was die quickly and protect the identity of Merlin. "It was not my place to tell you that." He closed his eyes, knowing that her life in Camelot would have never been okay if Uther found out she had magic.

Alator decided the conversation had lasted long enough. He hoped Morgana had gained whatever it was she was seeking from talking to Gaius, but thought it only served as a reminder to her fears and insecurities in her old life.

"My lady." He signaled for Morgana's attention. "Please back away. It is time to start."

Morgana stepped back, embarrassed by her tiny show of vulnerability.

Alator walked closer to Gaius. "Try to relax," he advised. "Ligfyr onbærne swiþe."

His eyes flashed fold and circle of flames rose around Gaius.

The old physician grimaced in pain, eyes widening. He looked to the side, making eye contact with Morgana. She didn't look away. Morgana believed he was a good person, but he wasn't on her side. His contributions to the kingdom were great and perhaps he did have good intentions in not telling her about her magic, but right now, all she felt was anger towards the man. He was just one more person to add to her list of people who had lied to her. She would watch him suffer, and she would have him finally tell her the truth about something.

"Do not resist the fire. Let it enter your mind. Let the flames search out your thoughts and this will all be over quickly." Alator felt Gaius fighting his technique.

"Acwence þa bælblyse." Gaius had just a little fight left in him. The Catha was stronger, but Gaius was once a sorcerer too, and for a moment the flames died down.

"Fyr wiþere." Alator was surprised that the old man remembered such a spell, but it was still all too easy for Alator to dismiss.

The spell strengthened anew and the flames blazed even higher. Gaius' magic didn't hold and the old man groaned again in agony.

Morgana winced, touching Alator's arm unconsciously.

"My lady?" Alator turned his attention to Morgana. It was too late to stop now. They had already gone through the trouble of finding him, and even if this pained Morgana, Alator had a deal to keep. "What's wrong?"

Morgana didn't know why she distracted Alator. Her anger against Gaius currently outweighed any guilt or residual fondness, but she found herself thinking about what Merlin would say if he were here. Thinking of Gaius undoubtedly brought her back to her thoughts of Merlin. Merlin was like Gaius, bringing her the physician's sleeping draughts and telling her nothing was wrong, even while believing she had magic. But even though he must have been scared, in the end, when she needed someone to tell her she wasn't crazy, he helped her. Even if she was mad at Gaius, if it wasn't for him, Morgana would have never gotten to know Merlin, would have never been led to the druids, and would have never learned that her magic was a gift.

At the end of the day, despite her personal feelings toward the man, hurting Gaius would hurt Merlin, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave me a review to let me know what you think! Till next week!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Late, late. The spring term just started up this week so I've been meeting a bunch of friends for dinner, and then I saw Ed Sheeran in concert! So fanfic has been neglected a bit, but I'm going to start to work on the next chapter later tonight! :)**

**Shout out to my super supportive reviewers: Glacier22, Kianix (Thanks! Yea, he's been spending too much time on Morgana recently. The Great Dragon would not be pleased), Mike3207, Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714 (Thanks! My feelings exactly!) EMY (Thanks for the lovely review!), chelseaunder18 (Don't worry, she won't be fixated on that!), Rya3SaberVltar, Narutoske (Thanks! It was an overdue reunion between those two), Guest (Not much this chapter, but soon!), LadyDunla, Guest, IndiaMoore, phhsdj, Olive, Straight Edghe, meee18, nochance (Thanks for the rec!), Sabine8195, guest (Thanks! It makes me smile that you like this fic so much. I'll try to update on time!), Guest.**

**Disclaimer: Merlin is still not mine. Also any familiar dialogue was pulled from "The Secret Sharer." **

There was something fishy about the fire at Dorrock. There were certain rules of battle that every king abided by, even underhanded kings like Odin who employed assassins. Setting a village on fire was just too much.

That thought floated around Arthur's mind as they rode back to Camelot. He was looking forward to seeing his father and would have to consult him on this matter.

They were but an hour away from Camelot when they were met by Perceival and Elyan on horseback.

"Sire." They pulled their horses to a halt.

"Elyan, Perceival. What's going on?" Arthur questioned, unsure of what they were doing.

"Leon asked that we ride out to find you. Something terrible has happened," Elyan responded.

"What is it?"

"It's Gaius,"Perceival answered. "He drugged Agravaine and made off into the night."

"That's ridiculous, Perceival. What are you talking about? Gaius is treating my father."

Elyan and Percevial exchanged glances and Arthur felt his blood freeze. "How is my father?"

"I'm sorry my lord, but we believe Gaius escaped after poisoning the king."

Arthur laughed, drawing another concerned glance between Elyan and Perceival. "Don't be preposterous. Gaius has been treating my father for the past few days—no, the past few years." Arthur couldn't process what his knights were telling him. There was just no way that what they were saying could be true.

"I'm so sorry, Arthur." Perceival tried again. "The stable boy saw Gaius riding away on the now-missing stallion."

"Sir Leon stumbled upon Agravaine passed out in your father's room. When Leon revived Agravaine, the last thing he remembered was having wine with Gaius," Elyan helped fill in the gaps.

Arthur cleared his throat. He was afraid to ask his next question. "And my father? Is he alive?" It wasn't a good sign that neither of the men had mentioned how exactly his father was doing.

"He's alive, but just barely. He needs a physician, but Gaius is… gone, and Merlin was with you." Elyan hoped the news wouldn't devastate Arthur. "Leon has the Council searching for a trusted local healer for the time being."

Arthur was hearing everything they were saying, yet he still could not process the information yet. Gaius' betrayal, his father's poisoning just as he was recovering from his arrow wound— it was too much to take in. His heart was reacting, constricting in worry and fear, but his brain was just frozen.

So Arthur did the only thing he could. He rode back to Camelot and to the new ordeal that faced him.

Within the hour, the group had passed the gates of Camelot. "Merlin, with me," Arthur called out to his manservant as they dismounted by the main stairs.

Merlin scurried to follow Arthur, leaving the horses to be taken care of by the approaching squires.

"What is going on here?" Arthur muttered.

Merlin remained silent, but a feeling of dread rose up within him when he saw the entire Council solemnly crowded around the deathly white king's bedside.

* * *

"Please, Alator." Morgana's hand had not moved from her mentor's arm.

Alator couldn't refuse the look in Morgana's eyes, beseeching him to stop his actions for a moment so they could talk.

With a silent sigh, Alator's eyes flashed gold and Gaius' body was flushed straight to the stone slab. Alator gestured for Morgana to lead the way, and they walked to the adjoining room.

"Morgana…" Alator's voice was slightly reprimanding.

"I know, Alator, I know!" Morgana shook her head from side to side, her dark curls covering the emotion of her face.

There was a point in her life when it was so easy not to care, where caring was actually hard to do. But now, she couldn't help herself, couldn't stop herself from thinking about the consequences of her actions, or lack thereof. She wanted to bottle up her feelings, wanted Gaius to feel how she felt when he left her alone to deal with her magic, but seeing the old man lying helplessly tugged at heartstrings she didn't realize still existed.

Morgana didn't know if she could forgive Gaius for what he had done. She wasn't sure if his omission hurt so much because he was her doctor, or if because he was the only one who could have helped her, or because she considered him family. She did know that she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she helped the likes of Agravaine torture Gaius. She didn't know what would happen once Alator pulled the information out of Gaius. Where would it leave them? Was her relationship with Gaius, however troubled it was, worth shattering completely? And perhaps more worrisome, what did Agravaine mean to do with Gaius once he had the information he needed?

Morgana didn't like the situation. She didn't have enough control over the outcome, and she hoped Alator would understand her concerns.

"There must be another way to obtain Emrys' identity. I just don't see how this is the right way."

Alator's response was stern. "For Emrys' identity from Gaius, we are guaranteeing the Druids' safe passage through Camelot into Essetir. We will obtain Uther's record of the Purge. It is a small price to pay, Morgana. Do not let your personal emotions cloud your thinking." Alator wouldn't budge. "You saw his reaction. He knows who Emrys is. This is the best lead, the only lead you and that Agravaine have."

"Yes, but –"

"Morgana." There was a tone of finality in Alator's voice. "I'm sorry, but this is not up for discussion. I agreed to let you come under the condition that you would not get in the way."

Morgana winced. She didn't want to get in Alator's way. Her loyalty was to him first. "Just give me a little bit of time with him. If I can't get him to tell me who Emrys is, he's all yours. Please, Alator?"

Alator sucked in his breath, considering Morgana's proposal. "You have an hour," he decided. He knew he was being too lenient with her. This wasn't something that was supposed to be up for discussion. They were supposed to be in and out of that cave as quickly as possible, but he would grant Morgana this courtesy. "I'll be waiting outside."

"Thank you, Alator, thank you. I promise. I'll be an hour and no more." And with one last grateful smile, Morgana walked back into the room where Gaius was.

* * *

Agravaine had played his part perfectly. He had defended Gaius for all of ten minutes before declaring the man a traitor and a murderer.

"I suspected him in the past, but his actions as of late solidified my faith in him. Who could have thought that he would spend all those hours looking over Uther just to poison him in the end?" Agravaine shook his head sadly and looked across the room to judge Arthur's reaction.

Arthur thought back to the conversation Agravaine forced them to have with Gaius a few weeks ago.

"_Why have I been brought here in this manner?" Gaius questioned, as a pair of guards escorted him into the council chamber. Arthur had felt guilty and shocked that Agravaine had asked for guards to bring the old physician in. _

"_As the king's right hand man, one of my jobs is to ensure his safety. That means asking questions, even of his most trusted servants. Then, so be it. No one is to take offence."_

"_Have I done something wrong, Sire?" Gaius addressed Arthur directly._

"_What is your attitude to sorcery, Gaius?"_

_Gaius looked at Arthur, who still made no indication that he would speak._

"_It is against the law. Against Uther's law."_

"_And do you agree with that?"_

"_I understand the reason for it."_

"_That's not an answer to the question I asked."_

"_The law is needed to prevent the abuses that have been perpetrated by sorcerers."_

"_Can I ask you to be a little more direct with your answers? Do you agree that magic should be banned? Yes or no?"_

_He paused. "Yes."_

"_Have you ever practiced sorcery?"_

_Gaius pursed his lips. "A long time ago."_

Arthur had felt there was something that Gaius was hiding, but the physician was the last person Arthur could ever believe would betray Camelot. The evidence against him now was too overwhelming to disregard.

"I am sorry that I did not follow up on your suspicions when you first mentioned them, Agravaine." Arthur's face was scrunched into a frown. "I hope you are alright, Uncle."

"Thank goodness it was a sleeping draught and nothing else. From what I've been told, Leon was able to rouse me relatively easily."

"Yes, thank goodness," Arthur echoed. He was glad his Uncle was alright, but he was too worried about the rest of the kingdom to hear Agravaine recount the situation again. He had already heard the story from Elyan and Perceival, and then again from Leon as he entered the Castle. "Please rest, Uncle. I'll take care of this."

And with that, Arthur strode off to find Merlin and Leon, leaving Agravaine alone.

It was at that time that Agravaine slipped out of Camelot, with Uther's records of the Great Purge safely tucked away in the packs of his horse. He estimated he had a few hours before anyone would look for him, so he would check up on the Catha and see if any progress had been made.

When he arrived at the cave, he pulled out the records and lit a torch. He hated the dank feeling of the cave and the soft red mud that comprised of the floor of the place. These magical folks really needed to find better locations to practice their craft, he thought disdainfully.

He turned the corner, looking for signs of Alator, when he felt the tip of a blade against his back. He dropped the records and turned slowly, and came face-to-face with the Catha.

"What are you doing here?" Agravaine questioned Alator, delicately pushing the dagger away from his body. "Do you have Emrys' identity already?"

"We are working on it," Alator responded vaguely.

"We?" Agravaine raised his eyebrows.

"It is of no importance to you. You will have his identity before the day is over." Alator eyed the bag on the ground. "Are those Uther's records?"

"Yes."

Alator reached for the bag, but was stopped by Agravaine. "Not before I have the warlock's identity." Agravaine tightened his grip on the Catha's arm.

In a flash, Alator's free arm was pressed against Agravaine's neck, and his eyes flickered gold. Agravaine blinked and found himself constrained by the Catha, levitated a few inches above the ground and pressed against the wall. Alator let his arm fall, and went to pick up the bag again, while Agravaine was still magically stuck against the cavern wall. "We do this on my terms. I will send you a message when Emrys' identity has been revealed." Alator was in no mood to deal with Agravaine's demands. "Do we have an understanding?"

Agravaine growled somewhat of an acceptance, and Alator released the man from the spell. Agravaine fell ungracefully to the ground, losing his balance and tumbling forward as he landed. He straightened himself up, and with a disdainful glare at Alator, he proceeded to exit the cave. "Do not cross me, Catha. Your magic will not protect you from the de Bois'. I expect to hear from you shortly," he spat.

Agravaine was angry. He was angry on the way out of the cave. He was angry on the ride back to Camelot, and he was still angry when he arrived back in his chambers. Their tenuous working relationship had quickly dissolved, and Agravaine kicked himself for allowing the Catha to gain the upper hand.

* * *

Morgana's time with Gaius proved to be unfruitful. She wasn't sure how to approach the situation; she just didn't want to see him tortured.

There were so many factors to consider. How much could she press him? Should she use magic? Should she refrain from threatening him? Her only leverage was her magic, and Gaius had made it very clear that he was not afraid of magic, or of dying.

She started by releasing Alator's binding spell and helping Gaius sit up. With a silent spell, she conjured a small sphere of water. "Here, hold your hands out," she instructed Gaius, and released the water into his hands. "Drink up, I'm sure you're thirsty."

Gaius drank the water hesitantly. He wagered he could drink an entire ocean's worth of water and sleep for years. "Why are you doing this, Morgana?"

She shrugged. "I suppose you're entitled to some basic comforts."

"I'm not going to tell you about Emrys." Water or not, Gaius would not play whatever game Morgana had in mind. No amount of water, food, sleep, or riches would make Gaius trust Morgana and reveal that Merlin was Emrys.

"So loyal," she observed. "I wonder what Emrys has done to deserve that?"

It was a genuine question. She wouldn't make this about herself or their relationship right now. Morgana was just honestly curious about what the warlock had done for Gaius to be so fiercely protective of his identity. She would focus on finding out who Emrys was in order to spare Gaius from any of Alator's torture. "I have an hour with you, Gaius. In that hour I hope you'll tell me who Emrys is, and we can all go our separate ways. No one will have to be hurt."

"My child, I think it's too late for that."

"I'm not a child anymore, Gaius. I can help you save yourself from this situation. It's never too late"

Gaius wondered if she was talking about them or about Emrys. He chose not to respond to the last part though. "Habit. You, and the young prince, and Merlin have always been like my own children."

Morgana wouldn't respond to that. She wouldn't get drawn into a conversation about their history together, about their choices of the past. "You have a choice now, Gaius. I'll sit here with you, and I'll wait for you to tell me."

In the back of her mind Morgana knew he probably wouldn't tell her who Emrys was, but she still had hope. She hoped there was some part of Gaius that would just tell her, not because it would let him save himself, but simply because she asked.

* * *

A thorough search of Gaius' chambers revealed that many of his possessions were missing and that two volumes about sorcery and the Old Religion had been hiding under his bed.

Gwaine had delivered the news to Arthur and Merlin, holding out the books and giving Merlin a sympathetic look.

That was it. Arthur had all the proof he needed.

Minutes later, Merlin angrily followed Arthur back to his chambers. "How can you believe this?" Merlin was filled with shock and rage that Arthur had publically declared Gaius a traitor and was ordering his capture.

Arthur couldn't look Merlin in the eye. "I know how you must feel. We questioned him before. He more or less admitted that he wasn't happy with my father's laws and that he is sympathetic to those with magic."

"And that makes him a traitor." Merlin's glare was burning a hole in Arthur's back.

"Look at the evidence, Merlin. He was alone with my father. The poison and sleeping draught administered to my father and Agravaine were from Gaius' supply. There were books about sorcery in his chambers. The stable boy saw him steal a horse and ride off."

"He's given his life to this kingdom. He would never betray you or the king."

"Then explain his actions." Arthur finally looked at Merlin. He wanted to believe Gaius wasn't the culprit, but he could not ignore the facts. His father was broken beyond repair. The knights had located a healer from outside of Camelot, but the poison had done its damage. The king would live, but it wouldn't be a life. Uther's mind had been ruined, and his motor skills were also done for. He would return to the shell of a man he once was when Morgana left, except this time, there was no saving him.

"All right. They're lies. Gaius would never harm a soul, and he would never run off in the night."

"Look, I know it's hard. I know what he meant to you. But the truth is right in front of you."

Merlin didn't understand how Arthur could give in so quickly. Sure, there was a great deal of evidence against him, but Merlin knew Gaius, and that would trump anything and everything else.

"Agravaine has made this story up." It had to be Agravaine. He was the one that sent them on the wild goose chase to Dorrock. He was the only other person in the room with Uther and Gaius. He was the only logical reason.

"I shall ignore that last comment."

"Because he's your uncle, you will not see who he really is." Merlin's rage was growing.

"Merlin! I've had my heart broken enough already today." Arthur's tone was warning Merlin to stop. "I don't want to lose another friend." They rounded the corner and entered Arthur's room. The prince stopped in front of his desk, holding up the sorcery books for Merlin to see. "Gaius condemned himself." He slapped the book on his desk. "There's no more to be said." And with that, Arthur picked up his jacket and exited the room.

"Damn it," Merlin cursed, sweeping the books to the ground. He was tired of the injustice, tired of seeing his friends get hurt and watching Arthur be tricked by those around him. It was up to him now, and Merlin was going to stop at nothing to prove Gaius' innocence.

He would start with the stable boy. There was no way he could have seen Gaius stealing a horse and escaping the grounds. Merlin would get the truth from him.

His plan to interrogate the stable boy lasted all of ten minutes. After learning that the boy's name was Blaine, Merlin had set out to find him, only to be told that the boy had gone home for the evening. Apparently his father was in poor health.

"Where does he live?" Merlin asked the stable hand that informed him of Blaine's departure. If the boy lived in the lower town then perhaps Merlin could make a quick house call.

"Outside the Castle, at the de Bois' estate. I believe the boy's father is still the groundskeeper there."

It was all starting to come together. Agravaine had framed Gaius, but for what purpose? Why go through such an elaborate process to kidnap the man out of Camelot? It was time to go straight to the source.

After making sure Agravaine was in the main hall conversing with some of the knights, Merlin sneaked into his chambers, intent on looking for any incriminating evidence of clues to where Gaius could be. There was nothing in his nightstand, and nothing under his bed. As Merlin went to stand up from searching beneath the bed, he noticed a pair of boots nearby, covered in a dark red soil. He picked up a boot, rubbing a thumb across to examine the dirt. It was a strange hue and also had a strange smell. He put the boot back, making a mental note to investigate where the soil could have come from. Getting up, Merlin continued his search. There was nothing in his closets, and Merlin moved to the desk, rummaging through the drawers. Nothing was there either. He moved to check the last desk drawer and found that it was locked. His eyes glowed and Merlin heard the satisfying sound of the drawer unlocking. Inside was a book titled "Studies in Sorcery," some jewelry, and a letter. Merlin opened the letter, and his eyes widened in shock. The letter opened with "My little brother—." Merlin scanned the letter quickly, noting that it was signed by Tristan, but before he had a chance to read the full content, he heard footsteps approach and the sound of the door unlatching.

Merlin put the letter back, and with another quick spell, the drawer locked itself again. Looking around to see where he could hide, Merlin positioned himself behind Agravaine's dressing screen just as the door opened and Agravaine walked in. He heard Agravaine walk towards the screen, and as Agravaine started to undress and walk behind the screen, Merlin slipped around to the other side. As silently as he had come, Merlin slipped out of Agravaine's chambers.

He would have gotten by undetected if not for that pesky mirror behind Agravaine's dressing screen. As the treacherous uncle took off his shirt, he saw Merlin's back retreating out of his room. Rapidly dressing himself, Agravaine walked around to see if anything was missing. He sat down on his bed and let out a breath of relief when he saw his drawer was still locked. Just as he was about to stand up and head back down to the Great Hall, he saw his boots and saw the thumb mark smeared across.

Agravaine gritted his teeth. It was bad enough that he could do nothing but wait for the Catha. He didn't need an interfering serving boy getting in his way. That Merlin was more trouble than he was worth and he would see to it that the boy met the same end as Gaius.

* * *

Merlin wished Gaius was around. He would have known where the stupid dirt was from. Merlin examined his thumb as he walked to the physician's chambers, wondering which book to consult to find out what type of soil he had. To his surprise, Merlin saw Gwaine waiting for him. "What are you doing here?

"Got bored of playing soldiers. And I thought I'd come and see how you were."

Merlin was suspicious. He wondered if Arthur had sent Gwaine to keep an eye on him after his little outburst about Agravaine earlier. "I'm busy." Merlin held the door open for Gwaine to exit before walking to Gaius' work table.

"Doing what?"

"What do you think?" Merlin was in no mood for chatter when Gaius could be hurt or dying.

"Looking for Gaius." Gwaine was worried about Merlin.

"I know everyone thinks he's a traitor, but he's not. He's been abducted, Gwaine. He may even be dead." Merlin leafed through a book titled "Field Guide for Sampling Soils."

"Probably don't need my help, then," Gwaine responded.

They exchanged a look and Merlin softened. He needed all the help he could get.

"Do you know what this is?" Merlin held up his thumb.

Gwaine walked over to Merlin. "Let me see." The knight took a swipe of the soil and held it up to his nose. "That's iron ore. Where did you find this?"

"That doesn't matter. Does it help us?"

Gwaine wiped his dirty finger on his pants. "Iron ore is pretty rare in Camelot. In fact, I've only seen it once, on a patrol."

"Where?"

"The Ridge of Kemeray. They've been hewing iron from rocks there for hundreds of years."

At that, Merlin grabbed his knapsack and an overripe looking apple.

"Where are you going?" Gwaine questioned.

"Let's ride." Merlin smiled. He would be able to save Gaius now.

Gwaine wondered how long the young manservant had been waiting to say that. He followed suit, picking up an equally overripe looking apple and heading out the door.

* * *

Morgana's time was up. A silent exchange between Alator and Morgana informed Alator that she had not been able to get the physician to reveal Emrys' identity willingly.

She didn't want to leave the room. She knew she promised Alator that she'd let him take over if her methods failed, but her heart told her this wasn't right. She wondered how she could stall Alator, how she could obtain the information without anyone getting hurt.

That was what her heart was telling her. But then her brain kicked in. What was she doing? She wanted to stall Alator, but to what end? Alator needed that information. She was on Alator's side, not Gaius'. Alator was dearer to her than Gaius, and she would not get in his way. She would support him, as he had supported her when she first came to him. _What do you want, Morgana? What is your purpose? _She asked herself these questions.

That's right. She was going to help those oppressed by Uther's laws against magic. That's what Alator was doing. He was helping the druids; he was obtaining Uther's records. And what was she doing? She was letting the situation become personal again. This was not about redemption or revenge. This was about justice.

Without looking at Gaius, she left the room, whispering to Alator, "I'll be right outside if you need me."

Alator was glad Morgana had left without further protest. He was proud of her kind heart, and impressed by her understanding and maturity that there was nothing more she could do for Gaius.

And then the torture started again.

"Tell me about Emrys. Tell me, Gaius. Where can we find Emrys?" Half an hour later and Gaius still hadn't revealed Emrys' identity. The old man was stronger than he looked.

"Tell me." Alator's words echoed in Gaius' head, crawling through the recesses of his mind.

The fires burned higher and hotter than ever, and Gaius felt himself losing the struggle. "In Camelot," he gasped.

"Where in Camelot?"

"Emrys is— Emrys is a name by which he is known to the druids. But to me…I know him by a different name." The words slipped out of Gaius' mouth unwillingly

"Tell me, Gaius."

"Mer— NO!"

Alator strengthened the spell. Gaius would not be able to resist. "Who is he?"

"He— he is the most powerful sorcerer who has ever lived." Gaius tried to answer his question without revealing Merlin's name.

"What is his name?" Alator was sick of this game. Watching the old man struggle made his stomach churn and he felt his own powers draining from overuse.

"His name is…" Gaius bit his tongue, trying to swallow the words that would come next.

Alator waited.

"Merlin." Gaius closed his eyes, his body relieved now that he wasn't fighting against the spell, but his mind horrified that he had now put Merlin at risk.

"Merlin." Alator echoed Gaius' statement. Not Morgana's Merlin? What did that mean?

"The druids' legends are true. Merlin is...Emrys. A man destined for greatness. A man who will one day unite the powers of the old world and the new, and bring the time that the poets speak of. The time...of Albion." Now that he had already said the worst, Gaius hoped he could make the Priest understand how important Emrys was. His identity could not be revealed for the sake of magic. "If you care about Morgana, you will not tell her this."

**A/N: Thanks for reading and being so patient with my updates! Will Alator tell Morgana? What's going to happen when Gwaine and Merlin reach the cave? Drop a review please :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hello guys! Made it on time this week!**

**Getting sick, so I'm going to keep this short and be a granny and go to sleep super early. Hope you guys enjoy!**

**Every new fave and follow still makes me smile so much. Special thanks to my reviewers last chapter: SD04, Mike, trueviolet1216, Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714 (Thanks, and good catch! I always felt that Merlin wasn't hard enough on Gaius, but that's understandable), Narutoske, Rya3SaberVltar, Olive, Guest, IndiaMoore, LadyDunla, phhsdj, Guest, Straight Edghe, Kianix, nochance, Sabine8195 (HAH, too true!), Kreeger, guest (Such high praise! Thank you, I do try my best hehe)**

**Your input always gives me something to think about and helps me keep everyone in character!**

**Disclaimer: Merlin, Agravaine's lame excuses, and Gwaine's good timing, all belong to the BBC. **

Alator left an unconscious Gaius on the stone slab and walked to a separate room to ruminate over what he had learned.

Merlin— Morgana's Merlin, was Emrys— the man of legend. He was the man Alator had been waiting for. He was the man that carried the hopes of the entire magical community upon his shoulders.

One thing was certain: Alator would not tell Agravaine of Emrys' true identity. Regardless of the fact that Emrys was Merlin, Alator could never let Agravaine learn that Emrys was the savior the magical community had been waiting for.

Morgana posed a more conflicting problem. There was no doubt in Alator's mind that Morgana had a soft spot for Merlin. She probably wouldn't admit it, but Alator understood. His betrayal had stayed with her for a long time, and pained her so much because he was important to her. His acceptance and support of her was equally as meaningful for the same reason. Alator didn't feel it was his place to tell herthat Emrys was Merlin. It would hurt her, but just how much? Perhaps it would be better not to tell her right now.

He dismissed that thought as quickly as it came. Their relationship was built on mutual respect and trust. He would not be one more person who kept a secret from her. That would hurt her more than this secret would.

The wrath of Morgana was something Alator had never experienced firsthand, and he hoped this information would not awaken the rage and hate that overtook her life in the past. He didn't quite understand Merlin or Merlin's intentions, but he knew what the warlock was destined for. Morgana and Merlin would have to find a way to overcome their differences. They were striving for the same future, even if they didn't know it yet.

_Morgana? _Alator reached out to her telepathically after walking through a few rooms in the cave without finding her.

_Alator? _Morgana responded right away.

_Where are you? Gaius has revealed Emrys' true identity._

There was a pause.

_Who is Emrys? _Morgana's voice was tinged with urgency and excitement.

Alator didn't know how to best to convey the information to her. _It is better I tell you in person. Where are you?_

_I'll come to you_. Morgana had wandered deeper into the cave. She wanted to get away from the sounds of Gaius' screams as Alator pushed him for information. _Alator? _

_Yes?_

Morgana was afraid to ask her next question. _Is Gaius… alright?_

_He'll be fine. He's resting now._

The news of Gaius' condition was equally as crucial as the information of Emrys' identity and Morgana felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

* * *

They should have asked Perceival or Elyan to join their journey, but it couldn't be helped.

Getting to the caves was relatively easy. Gwaine had a great sense of direction even in the dark, but he had never been in the actual caves at the Ridge. Merlin and Gwaine had explored the cave, going from empty room to empty room. They had not been searching for more than 20 minutes, but to Merlin, it felt like hours.

So when they reached a fork in the cave, Merlin suggested that they split up to cover as much ground as possible.

"Alright, but be careful." Gwaine was concerned about Merlin's safety. If Merlin was right about Gaius being kidnapped, then they could be in real danger here.

Merlin nodded. "Gwaine," he called out to the knight before they parted ways. "If you find him, don't wait for me."

Gwaine gave a serious nod in response, and the two friends went their separate directions.

* * *

When he heard quick, light footsteps approaching him, Alator turned to greet Morgana.

He was taken aback when Merlin emerged through the doorway. From the reaction of the boy, Alator could see he was equally as surprised.

"What are you doing here?" Alator addressed Merlin.

"I'm here for Gaius." Merlin cautiously answered.

"Did Agravaine send you?" Alator couldn't think of another reason for the boy to be here. He clearly wasn't a solider or a knight. Perhaps Agravaine was too nervous from their last encounter to come himself.

"Agravaine?" The boy furrowed his brow.

Alator sighed; he had no time to communicate with Agravaine through his lackeys. Clearly the boy was confused as to what his role was. "Tell him I have his information. Go home. I will send him the name of Emrys' true identity through my own channels." Alator, although knowing Merlin's connection to Morgana, did not know what he looked like.

Merlin made no movement to leave. Rather, he seemed surprised and worried. "I am not to return to Lord Agravaine until I can tell him who Emrys is," he articulated slowly.

"Agravaine can wait for his information." Alator turned to leave. What was Agravaine thinking sending a serving boy?

Merlin didn't know what to expect when he ran into the stranger in the caves. His blood ran cold when the man revealed that he knew Emrys' identity.

Merlin didn't have time for this though. If the man truly knew Emrys' real name, then who knows what condition Gaius was in. There was no friend to whom his mentor would give up that information to willingly.

Merlin couldn't let this man tell Agravaine who Emrys was.

As Alator turned his back, Merlin reached his hand out and cast a spell. "Wáce ierlic," he uttered.

The spell propelled the Catha against the cavern wall, and Merlin advanced closer to see what effect his spell had. Merlin wasn't sure what he hoped to achieve. Was he going to kill this man to keep him from revealing his secret to Gaius? That thought made him shudder.

Perhaps he could erase his memory, or replace his memory with a new one. No, those were complicated, difficult spells that Merlin had not studied enough to cast. Besides, the consequences of dabbling with someone's mind were not something Merlin wanted to incur.

What Merlin didn't know was that he was facing a Catha. Physical pain was nothing to Priests of the Catha, and Alator was an exceptionally skilled Priest.

Within a moment, Alator had risen to his feet again. Merlin could see his brain working and processing what had just happened. There was no other way now. Merlin had to dispose of this man now that he knew Merlin had magic.

So before Alator could do or say anything, Merlin threw another spell his way. "Forbærne yfel!" Merlin yelled, and a ring of rose around Alator.

It was like child's play for Alator. Whatever Merlin thought he understood about this situation, Alator suddenly understood more. Agravaine couldn't have sent this boy. The concern for Gaius, the serving clothes, the magic, oh, and the neckerchief. Alator had heard enough of Merlin from Morgana to glean that the boy before him was most likely Merlin.

And if that was true, then it meant he was fighting Emrys, the man whose destiny had brought Alator out of his quest for revenge, the man whose destiny had brought hope to the entire magical community.

With a silent spell, Alator suffocated the fires that whipped around him.

"I am Alator of the Catha." Alator kneeled in front of Merlin before the young sorcerer had a chance to cast another spell. "I am at your service, Emrys."

As much as he suspected the boy before him was Merlin, Alator was not positive. The look on Merlin's face when Alator kneeled and addressed him as Emrys solidified his suspicions. He had all but confirmed that he was Merlin.

Merlin was even more shocked than before, but he was glad he would not have to fight this man.

"What have you done with Gaius? Why are you working with Agravaine?" Merlin was still wary, still ready to attack with his arsenal of spells. "You have magic." He added that afterthought.

"Please rest your worries. Your secret will be safe from Agravaine. I understand the burden you carry. I have lived with it all my life. I have been shunned, persecuted, and sometimes even hunted in every corner of the five kingdoms. I understand what that feels like. You're not alone. From what Gaius told me, I do not have your great powers, Merlin, but I share your hopes. For I, and others like me, have dreamt of the world you seek to build. And we would gladly give our lives to help you do it." Alator had waited years to say that. "I did not know that this was what Agravaine was seeking."

Merlin was amazed. He had no idea how to respond. It was a relief to hear that Gaius was alright, and it filled his heart with warmth to hear such overwhelming support from the Priest. There were times he felt so alone, so underappreciated, so powerless, despite his magic. He didn't expect to meet an ally here, but Alator had eased his worries about Gaius and reaffirmed the importance of his destiny all at once.

"Alator of the Catha." Merlin spoke his new friend's name, wondering what a Catha was. "Please stand." Merlin's ears were turning pink. He was unaccustomed to others bowing before him. He reached a hand to Alator, which the older man accepted gratefully. "Can you take me to Gaius?"

Alator nodded. "Aye, follow me, Emrys."

"Please, just call me Merlin. Emrys is, well… I don't think I've become the Emrys everyone is hoping I'll be yet." Merlin gave a small, lopsided grin.

* * *

Agravaine patted himself on the back for finding Gaius before Gwaine and Merlin did. When he arrived at the caves at the Ridge of Kemeray, he saw two stallions already outside.

The caves were massive though, and Agravaine had the upper hand. Whatever time he had lost in riding after the pair, he made up with his quick navigation. He had an approximate recollection of where he met Alator the last time in the caves. Gaius was sure to be near that location, and luck guided him to the exact room.

The physician was unconscious in the middle of the room. Agravaine pulled out a dagger, approaching the old man, planning to end his life.

His luck ran out there though. Just as Agravaine was about to slit Gaius's throat, he felt the tip of a sword against his back.

"Agravaine! So it was you! You abducted him." The accusatory voice of Gwaine accompanied the threat of the sword.

"What? No!" Agravaine didn't turn around. He thought quickly, trying to think of a way to explain himself out of the situation.

"Then what are you doing?" Gwaine couldn't wait to hear how Agravaine was going to justify holding a dagger to Gaius' face.

Agravaine turned to face Gwaine finally. "He's unconscious, I'm trying to help."

"With that?" Gwaine raised his own sword to Agravaine's face to make a point.

"I want to see if he's still breathing." Agravaine lifted his dagger a bit from Gaius' throat to his nose.

"And is he?" Gwaine was still skeptical.

"Just." Agravaine brought his dagger in front of Gwaine's face. "You can see the breath still on the blade. Look." He hoped this would convince the knight. "Now do you believe me?" Agravaine parried Gwaine's sword with his dagger, eager to get the knight's weapon away from him.

Gwaine quickly brought his sword back in front of Agravaine's face. He wouldn't let the man off the hook so easily. "Then how did you know he was here?"

Not to be thrown off guard, Agravaine quickly replied. "Guards at the western gate saw you and Merlin leave. Knowing Merlin's concern for Gaius, I thought it must be some new information at hand. So, I just followed your trail." Agravaine's reply was partially true.

Gwaine thought it over. He supposed that made sense. He sheathed his sword. "You agree he was abducted, then?"

"Yes, of course he was." Agravaine answered in what he hoped was a convincing voice. "Now, we must get him back to Camelot without delay. Come on."

"We have to find Merlin first." The kidnappers could still be in the cave.

"No!" Agravaine was a little too quick to answer, and his response elicited a suspicious glance from Gwaine.

Agravaine recovered from his blunder. "I fear if we do not leave now, Gaius will not survive. We've no time to lose. Give me a hand!"

Gwaine was not one to easily abandon his friends though, and made no movement to join Alator.

"Look, the people who took Gaius have already fled. I saw them with my own eyes from the ridge. We must get back to Camelot by night fall. Come on, Gwaine. Help me. Please!"

"Alright." Gwaine gave in finally.

"Don't worry. Merlin can find his own way back." Agravaine gave a sour smile, but Gwaine thankfully missed his expression.

* * *

For a brief moment, Alator had forgotten that he was waiting for Morgana to come to him. His unexpected meeting with Emrys had his mind in other places.

Damn the caves for being so large. Damn the tunnels for being so long. Damn him for not telling her when he first found out Merlin was Emrys.

Morgana had heard Alator's voice softly bounce off walls of the tunnel, and she flushed herself to the edge of the wall on her end, keeping hidden in the shadows. She figured he was talking to Agravaine, and didn't think it would be wise to reveal her presence in front of Arthur's uncle.

Her ears perked up when she heard a second voice, a familiar voice that wasn't Agravaine's.

Merlin. For some reason, he seemed to bring a smile to her face. Of course he would come alone and risk his life to find Gaius. Of course he would be the only one smart enough to find where Gaius was. Really, no one gave Merlin enough credit.

That smile soon faded. She couldn't come out now. What would Merlin say? He would hate her again for having a part in kidnapping Gaius. She shirked back into the shadows, torn between wanting to see him and her unease over how he would react.

Despite her last memories of Camelot, her time in the Pendragon kingdom taught Morgana the value of friendship. Her time with Morgause taught her the importance of standing up for what she believed in. Her time with Alator taught her how to accept responsibility for her actions, her relationships, and her future. She pushed away her nerves. She wouldn't hide from Merlin; that wasn't who she was.

She was about to walk down the tunnel to investigate the situation, when she stopped at the mention of Emrys.

She heard Merlin's voice. "Please, just call me Merlin. Emrys is, well… I don't think I've become the Emrys everyone is hoping I'll be yet."

Then Alator's voice rang in, more clearly, as the two approached her direction. "Your destiny has been prophesized by many cultures, many creatures of the Old Religion. Have faith in your abilities."

Morgana felt something between complete shock and utter disbelief.

The knowledge that Merlin was Emrys completely blindsided her. Alator might as well have told her that Arthur was Emrys. It was _that _unbelievable.

And that was exactly what it was— unbelievable. Merlin couldn't be Emrys. It was a plot to trick Alator or something. Yes, that was the more likely explanation.

With her mind made up, Morgana stepped out from the shadows and walked towards the two men.

Merlin wished Alator mentioned that Morgana was his traveling companion. He had enough surprises for the night, and when he heard the clicking of boots coming down the tunnel, he thought if anyone, it'd be Gwaine.

Under normal circumstances, Merlin would have jumped at the chance to see Morgana again. In his mind, he had hoped that the culmination of their recurring but fleeting meetings would one day result in some sort of reconciliation.

Of course that plan never involved revealing himself as Emrys to her. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell her. She would have understood him the best out of everyone. Not Gwen, Gwaine, or even Arthur would have understood the way she could. Hell, not even Lancelot could have leveled with him the way she could. It was just that too much time had passed. He had missed too many windows of opportunities to tell her that he had magic too, and he couldn't fathom a good time or a good way to broach that topic.

Naturally, he tensed when he matched the clicking of boots to Morgana's approaching figure. He glanced at Alator, and instead of surprise, his new friend's face only reflected recognition, as if he expected Morgana to be there.

Merlin's belief was confirmed when Alator greeted the sorceress. "My lady."

"I see you've met Merlin." Morgana spoke politely, the way she did when she was still Lady Morgana of Camelot. It was as if she was introducing one noble family to another. "Merlin, I see you've had the honor of meeting Alator of the Catha."

Merlin hoped she didn't hear any of his conversation with Alator. There was no way she could have. If she did, she would definitely be reacting differently. He was too wrapped up in wondering how much she knew about Emrys to even consider why she was there in the first place.

Merlin was too baffled to even respond to her greeting. _Alator. What is she doing here?_ He hoped he could send a telepathic message to Alator. He hadn't tried communicating mentally with any non-druids, but he hoped he would be able to.

_She has been living with me, studying the Old Religion. Do not worry, she is a friend, despite whatever history the two of you may have had._

_Please, you cannot tell her that I am Emrys. _

_Am I to lie to her?_

_For now. You seem to know enough about our past to understand that now is not the time to tell her._

_Emrys. _Alator respected the sorcerer greatly, but wouldn't readily acquiesce to his request. _When will it be a good time then?_

A moment of silence passed. _I don't know. _Merlin's answer was honest and tinged with guilt.

_All her life, those she loved most have kept tremendous secrets from her. Now is your chance to act differently, to change a history of lies and secrecy. _Alator wouldn't let him back out of this. Regardless of the great destiny the young man bore, he still had a responsibility to tell the truth to Morgana. They were friends, and that was a bond stronger than any army or any kind of magic.

_I cannot. _Merlin was scared. There wasn't much he was scared about. It wasn't that he was brave the way Arthur was, or headstrong like Gwaine, or confident in his strength like Perceival, it was just that he was a man with a purpose, a destiny. That destiny focused him and guided him. It was a path with an end-goal that he could see. Any challenges along the way were just another test that put him one step closer to reaching that goal. But with Morgana? He had no idea what he was doing. Telling her about his magic wasn't part of his destiny. In fact, if the Great Dragon was right, telling her could put his destiny at danger. Not telling her was equally as painful. It was a burden that weighed heavily on his heart and on his mind. With Morgana, he didn't know what the right step was, what the right path was, and that scared him to death.

_The Lady Morgana deserves better. _Alator had many reasons for believing Morgana should know, and he understood that Merlin probably had many reasons for not wanting her to know. It was a simple statement, but one full of honesty and truth.

Merlin had mourned too many times for a friend who deserved better. Lancelot deserved better. Gwen deserved better, and even the Great Dragon deserved better. Balinor deserved better, Freya deserved better. The last two memories sat bitterly in his heart.

And just as he was ready to forfeit yet another chance to bridge the distance between them, Merlin realized just how right Alator was. His excuses felt old and tired. He was reaching, stretching for a reason not to tell her, when there was none. She deserved better, she deserved to know. She had always deserved to know. Telling her he had magic too would have been what was right, what was best for her. Instead, he had kept his secret from her for his own personal benefit. He would never know what would have happened if he had told her in the beginning, but so far, keeping it a secret seemed to have caused more damage than anything.

It didn't matter if he was Emrys the great and powerful, or just a lowly serving boy, he would do right by Morgana.

"Morgana." He was torn between wanting to keep his distance and wanting to reach out to grab her hand. He was torn between the familiar safety of keeping his secret hidden and wanting to bear his soul. "I have something to tell you." He reached out and grabbed both her hands in his. "Please don't react until you've heard everything I have to say." His hands were trembling. "I have magic." He gripped her hands tighter, hoping it would stabilize his nerves and wanting to make sure she wouldn't pull away. "I am Emrys."

It was his life to live, and he was going to live it unfettered by prophecies of his destiny of fear of potential futures. This was how he wanted her to live her life, so it was how he was going to start living his.

**A/N: It's out there now. What next? R&R, please :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Real life knocks, and my lovely beta was busy with college craziness and tkd tournaments. I figured this was an important enough chapter to wait and make sure it's properly proofread, but this chapter is the longest I've written yet so I hope you enjoy!**

**Special thanks to all my old and new supporters, and especially you guys who reviewed last chapter: Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, AmberW, BeckyBoo12221, nochance, renessaincbooklover108, Rya3SaberVltar, Tsukune08, Narutoske, shelle-ma-belle, Straight Edghe, Kianix, Black Alnair, LadyDunla, Poetic4U, 4 mergana, phhsdj, Insanetrouble, Mike, Olive, guest, Guest, IndiaMoore, mee18, Sweetdeath04**

**24 reviews?! You guys are amazing. :)**

**I've kept you waiting long enough, so enough blabbering from me!**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. **

Morgana thought she'd feel relief, or at least some sort of understanding when she learned who Emrys was.

Now that the truth had been thrust at her, she didn't know how to feel. To be more accurate, she couldn't feel anything, only numbness.

She scoffed, she couldn't believe Merlin was Emrys, but her face looked distraught. "What are you saying, Merlin?" She tried to pull her hands away but he held on tight.

"Please." Merlin was desperate. "Hear me out." He started at the beginning, telling Morgana about how he came to Camelot, not knowing of the destiny that had been prophesized for him. He talked about how he had met the Great Dragon in Camelot, and how he had slowly come to accept his destiny. "I wanted to tell you." He rephrased himself. "I should have told you." A million emotions ran across his face as he tried to explain.

It was too much information for Morgana to process. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. You don't have magic. Why would you say this?"

"Please, Morgana, I'm telling you the truth."

"No, you're not Merlin." Morgana was adamant. "Stop this right now. You're not Emrys."

Some of what he said immediately made sense. How many times had Arthur saved the kingdom or faced an impossible task but succeeded? And who was always at his side?

Still, she knew Merlin. She'd have known if he had magic. She wrenched her hands away from him and took a step back. "Prove it." It all had to be a lie. She couldn't let herself believe a word he was saying.

Merlin sighed. He supposed he would have to show her before she would accept his words.

"Upastige draca!" Merlin incanted, and the flames from the torch Alator was carrying danced through the air, shaping itself into a dragon.

Morgana's eyes followed the flames, taking in what she was seeing. Her first thought was that it was beautiful. The dragon was beautiful, his magic was beautiful. Perhaps it was because she was also a creature of great magic, but she was instantly drawn in by the sight before her.

She blinked, and Merlin dissipated the dragon of flame, and just like that she felt whatever awe she first experienced faded away just as quickly.

Now that she had seen the truth, she felt nothing but a dark, overwhelming anger. He knew about magic, from even before they met. He knew about her magic, and had done nothing to help.

"How could you?" Her words came out as a whisper, and she was trying to keep her voice from wavering.

He shook his head in remorse. He had no good answer for her. "I wanted to. I tried my best to help, but Gaius, the Great Dragon, everyone told me not to get involved. I shouldn't have listened, Morgana. I should have followed my heart and done what was right."

No words could relieve her of the hurt she felt, or of the reckless anger she never thought she'd feel again. She didn't know how to react. Part of her just wanted to break down and cry. Part of her wanted to fling every spell she had ever learned at Merlin and watch him writhe in pain. And a tiny, tiny part of her was happy to hear that Merlin had magic. He was her last friend at Camelot, and the fact that he had magic too bonded them.

She had so many questions. Most of them began with 'why', but settled on just one. "Was I so undeserving of your trust, even in the beginning?"

And just like that, Merlin felt his heart break. It would have been better, easier if she had just gotten angry. She could attack him, and hopefully he could calm her down, and they'd go from there. It was much harder to face her words.

"I made a bad choice, Morgana. I'd go back and change what I did if I could."

Her life had crumbled once when Gorlois died, then again when she found she had magic, and yet again when she learned she was a Pendragon, and then once more when Morgause died. She figured after all that, nothing could hurt or surprise her too much again. She was wrong.

What Merlin didn't understand was just how much she had clung to his words. More than anyone else in the Castle, she had trusted him and turned to him for understanding. She remembered the day when he came to bring her home from the druids. She didn't want to leave. For the first time, she had met people with magic; people who used their magic for good and understood what she was going through. She didn't feel so alone for the first time. _"Do you understand?"_ She needed him to. He had looked her straight in the eye and answered, _"Better than anyone."_ It was the truth, though she didn't see how he could possibly understand, but he said it with such honesty and conviction.

It was his words and little encouragements that helped her stay sane in the early days of discovering her magic. It was his little gestures— the flowers left in her room— that let her know that she had someone in her corner.

Now, she felt so stupid to have trusted him, to have believed he was on her side when the entire time, he was pulling the wool over her eyes. Her fists were balled so tightly she was afraid she'd draw blood from her own palms. It took every fiber of her being, every good, rational thought she ever had, and a meaningful look from Alator, for her to not to pin him against the wall with her magic and choke him to death.

He pushed her to become somebody else. He understood what it was like to have magic and have to hide it, but he never told her. She almost didn't even care that he was Emrys, or that he had poisoned her. There was so much, too much that she was angry at him about. At least when he poisoned her, she eventually understood why he had done what he did. She didn't understand the motivations behind his actions now, and that frustrated her.

"How can you be Emrys, yet stay at the Pendragons' beck and call? How can you do nothing while Uther has continued to kill so many of our people?" She couldn't talk about her personal relationship with Merlin, not yet. It was easier to ask him questions about Emrys.

"Uther hates what he does not understand. It is Arthur who will be different, Arthur who will lead Camelot to a new age. His reign will be different; we just have to wait for it."

"What's the point of having magic if you can't use it? Maybe Arthur will be different, but how can you sit around and just wait as hundreds of innocent people are being killed for no reason?"

"What else can I do, Morgana? Kill Uther? Do you think Arthur would change his opinion about magic then?"

"And how has that worked out for you? Has Arthur been overturning his father's policies? Or has he continued to raid druid camps and sentence innocents to death under a suspicion of magic? You keep waiting for change, Merlin. If you don't actually do something about it, then there will be no one left to help by the time Arthur becomes king," Morgana shot back.

"And using your magic for evil is better, Morgana? Hurting innocent women and children who have no say against Uther's policies will bring about a better Camelot?" He would let her hate him for not telling her his secret, but he would not sit by and let her criticize the other choices he made.

He was partially right there. Morgana hated to admit it, but she had seen Arthur slowly change under Merlin's influence. He was more thoughtful and gentler. He was less brash and eager to please Uther. She didn't know Emrys, but the Merlin she knew was loyal and kind and stood up for what he believed in, and undoubtedly, had changed the foolhardy and arrogant young prince she grew up with.

"Morgana, we have the same dream. Whatever else has happened is in the past; we want the same things. We're fighting for the same people."

"There is no we, Merlin. You made that perfectly clear all those years ago."

"I could say the same for you, Morgana."

She wouldn't let him turn it on her. "Spare me your judgment, Merlin. Our dreams are vastly different."

"How, Morgana?"

She was so tired of this. "Why do you do anything in your life?" She didn't know if she was even making any sense, but she was too angry.

"What?"

"The choices you make, like not telling me you had magic, or not taking action against Uther, you do it all because of your stupid prophecy. Everything you do is so that you can fulfill that prophecy. It's not the same with me. Uther is the man who caused the only father I've ever known to die. He's the man who made me feel like a monster for having magic. And at the end of it all, I find out he's my real father. I dream of a world where no one will have to feel as angry and alone as I did. I want to live in a land where tyrants don't execute innocent people on mere suspicion, a mere whim, or have you forgotten that Uther also killed Gwen's father? You had the power to stop so much pain in so many people's lives, but you didn't because you thought it wasn't what your prophecy wanted."

She was right. Fear of not fulfilling his destiny had weighed heavily on many of his decisions, but she could not accuse him of not experiencing the same pain and loneliness she had under Uther's reign. "He caused my father's downfall too, Morgana."

Her eyes widened a fraction at that knowledge. She didn't care if his father had died. It had no bearing on the current situation, but at the same time, she wanted to know. "You've never talked about your father."

He would tell her the whole truth now. The truth was the last thread connecting them, the last resort to keep her from pulling away from him forever.

"His name was Balinor. He was a dragonlord."

For that second they weren't Emrys the sorcerer and Morgana the witch, or even Merlin the servant and the honorable Lady Morgana. They were just two old friends, who for the first time, were finally beginning to understand each other.

He made it hard for her to be angry with him. She shouldn't have asked about his father. She should have just broken his neck while she had the chance and closed that chapter of her life. That was just the anger talking though.

Instead, she couldn't help but sympathize with Merlin. He had a tough life, and she couldn't imagine everything he had lost to protect Camelot. He had to hide his magic for so long too, for longer than she had. Her heart ached a little for him, and for moment she believed that he had to feel the same way she did.

Morgana had a newfound respect for Merlin, after learning everything he had done. She couldn't help but silently cheer him on when he revealed he had let the Great Dragon free, and her heart broke for him when she learned about how she had found his father only to lose him again.

"That's everything, Morgana." Merlin had spilled years of secrets to her. It wasn't _everything_, but he hoped it would be enough for now.

Now, it was up to her. How she would react, what she could choose to do. He had said all he could.

"Who else knows?" Morgana needed to know who Merlin did trust with his secret.

"Just Gaius, and my mother of course. Lancelot found out accidently."

"Arthur?"

"No."

"Will you ever tell him?"

"I want to. I'll do it when the time is right."

"And all this time you've been protecting him without him knowing?"

Merlin nodded.

"Aren't you tired of being pretending to be nothing more than a serving boy?"

"Being a serving boy lets me protect Arthur. Nothing else matters."

She hated that he was so noble, so modest. He was Emrys, yet he spent his days emptying dirty bath water and doing laundry for a prince who had no idea of how powerful he truly was. "Do you think he'd understand?"

"He will. One day."

"Will you ever tell him how his mother really died?" She hated his noncommittal answers. She hated all the secrets he kept.

"I don't know. Does it even matter anymore?"

And with that, her anger flared up again. "How does it not matter? How is it that all you can care about is protecting Arthur, no matter what the consequences? How does it not matter that Uther essentially killed his wife and then waged a war to lessen his own guilt? You're just as bad, Merlin." She couldn't stop now. "While you're protecting Arthur from the world, who is protecting the world from Arthur? Or can you deny that he continues to lead raids against the druids?" It was all too clear to her now. "He's the only one that matters, isn't he? You're willing to sacrifice anything and anyone to protect him."

He was losing her, and he knew it. "NO." He was willing to do anything for Arthur, but the prince wasn't the only one that was important to him. "I swore I would protect you. Every day you were struggling with understanding what you were going though, I was struggling to think of a way to help you."

"I don't know why you were struggling," she retorted, "all you had to do was tell me. Oh, but that's right, I'm the witch," she spat out the last word hatefully.

"Morgana…" He reached out to grab her. He didn't want to hear her talking like that.

It was a bad decision though, and as soon as he took a step toward her he found himself flying off his feet and skidding on his back against the dirt floor.

"Don't come near me." Morgana's eyes returned to their normal blue-green. "I don't care what you thought. You never trusted me, even though I trusted you with everything."

He sat up, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration. "I trusted you, Morgana. It was a mistake not telling you, but I trusted you. Who did I come to first to help me hide Mordred? Was it Arthur, or was it you?"

She didn't respond.

"I kept your secret, Morgana. I tried to help you understand you magic. I helped you avoid suspicion from Arthur when Morgause sent the Knights to attack Camelot. I didn't tell you I had magic, but I've had your back."

"Because you felt guilty."

"Because I care."

"If you cared, you would have told me."

"I'm telling you now, Morgana! I'm telling you because I still care." He couldn't stop the world from hurting her, hell, he couldn't even stop the truth from hurting her, but he promised that he would never hurt her ever again.

"You didn't care enough to trust me, Merlin."

"I'm trusting you now. Can't you see that? I trust you now, when I have no idea what you're going to do with this information. I don't know what you think of me anymore. I don't know if we're still friends. Despite that, I trust you, Morgana. You could tell Agravaine. You could tell Uther and Arthur. You could tell any one of Camelot's many enemies."

He had a point. She could destroy him, or at least destroy the Camelot he dreamed of, with the information she had just learned.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Whatever you want." He meant it.

"What do you want me to do with this?"

"I want you to come back to Camelot."

Morgana's was taken aback. "Why?"

"Because that's where you belong. I'll tell Arthur you saved Gaius. You can tell him Agravaine is the traitor. He'll welcome you back, I know he will." Perhaps he could still convince her.

He definitely was still the Merlin she knew. Optimistic, kind, thoughtful. She was sure he was the only person in Camelot that would welcome her back.

"I can't achieve what I want to in Camelot. You know that. I made Morgause a promise."

Morgause. And that's when it hit her. He had killed her sister. They couldn't figure it out all that time. Morgana had suspected Gaius after learning that he had limited control over magic, but Morgause swore she had her eye on him the entire time. The only other person in the room who was capable of magic was Merlin.

She was alone again because of Merlin.

"YOU KILLED HER. YOU KILLED MY SISTER." The rage she had been suppressing could no longer be contained now that she had pieced together the puzzle.

"Morgana." Alator stepped forward. They were heading to dangerous ground, and the air felt heavy with magic as Morgana's emotions heightened. He had remained quietly to the side. The two young sorcerers were having a long overdue conversation, and Alator wasn't entirely comfortable with being there. They had too much history and it was too personal, but Alator stayed, because as much as he trusted Morgana, he knew how unpredictable her magic grew when her emotions were involved.

"Don't, Alator." Even her mentor's calming words couldn't soothe the hurt she was feeling right now. She could forgive Merlin for poisoning her, she could even forgive him for keeping his magic a secret, but she didn't know how she could forgive him for taking away the last person in the world who truly loved her. "He killed my sister to protect a tyrant's kingdom."

"She forcibly took over Camelot. How is that better than Uther?" Merlin wouldn't let her pretend Morgause had been innocent in all this.

"Enough, Merlin. You have no qualms over killing your own.

"What else could I have done?" He was frustrated too, but didn't want to upset her further. Morgause was many things, but first and foremost, she was Morgana's sister, and Merlin could imagine how heavily her death weighed on Morgana.

"So you're saying she deserved to die?"

"I could not let her have Camelot."

"You're right, Merlin, because Uther deserves it so much more," Morgana snapped bitterly.

He saw through her walls, like he always had, and Merlin wouldn't let Morgana retreat into a tirade about how Morgause's way was the right way. They both knew better. "If I didn't stop her then Arthur would be dead. Gwaine, Perceival, all of the knights. I'm not happy that Morgause is dead, but I can't regret putting a stop to her destruction."

"Her actions would have brought about the new age of Albion you hope for."

"No. Arthur's will." Merlin was firm, confident in his answer. "Perhaps Morgause dreamed of the same future, but her methods would have brought nothing but continuous warring."

"So what would you have her do? She tried telling the truth, she tried not fighting, and you convinced Arthur that she was lying." Morgana had asked Morgause the same questions, but when she learned that Arthur had rejected the truth and Uther had once again lied to absolve himself of any guilt, her heart hardened more and more against Camelot. "Don't look so surprised, Merlin. Arthur told me everything. Arthur knew the truth. You wanted him to change the kingdom. He could have then, but you chose to lie to him, to support Uther."

"The truth would have destroyed him, Morgana."

"The truth would have set him free from Uther's lies."

"He would have killed Uther in his anger. You and I both know he would never forgive himself if that happened."

"You and I both know Arthur is too good. He would have never followed through with it."

Merlin had forgotten how vast the uncharted territory between them was, but at the end of the day they weren't so different. Arthur was good, pure, and straightforward. They both understood that. He and Morgana were the same. They were willing to dirty their hands, willing to play whatever role necessary to achieve their goals. He was sad then. It shouldn't have to be like this.

"Arthur's feelings shouldn't be exploited by magic to turn against his father. One day, I'll tell him the truth about his mother, but it'll be on his terms."

"You keep saying one day." Morgana looked sad too. "When is that day? Do you even know?" She understood where Merlin was coming from. She had a problem with many of Arthur's decisions, with the path he took, but she still cared about him. But if Arthur was to be king, then he had to face the truth. "Why do we have to hide who we are? Why do we have to bend to others to make them comfortable? The truth should be enough. The truth should be good enough."

"I get it, Morgana. Don't you think I'm sick of watching innocent people die? I remember each and every face Uther had executed. You're not the only one that remembers Gwen's father. Do you remember when he was miraculously cured of his illness and Uther accused Gwen of witchcraft? It was me who healed her father, because I couldn't bear to see her lose her only remaining parent. It's never enough, Morgana. I saved him, but dozens more died that I could have saved with my magic. And I couldn't even keep him safe forever. I healed him then, but I couldn't save him again when Uther ordered his execution."

"SO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. IF ANYONE COULD, IT WOULD BE YOU." Morgana was so close to crying. She was trying to reconcile the Merlin she knew with the man before her right now. In many ways he was still the same, but in just as many ways he was a complete stranger. Was this the man who saved Mordred from the clutches of the king? Was he the man that was willing to fight off a warlord by himself to protect his village? Was this the same man who was willing to venture in Hengist's kingdom to rescue Gwen?

A million emotions were battling in her heart. She was angry at the time they wasted because he hid the truth from her. She was angry at the choices he made and also at the choices she made. She mourned their decisions, their actions, their losses. They had both lost so much, so much they didn't have to lose. He could have left Arthur alone, led a happy life together with his mother and father. He would want for nothing— his magic would bring him great riches and success. She could have been happy too, retreated to Avalon with Morgause and focused on rebuilding the island and learning about her magic. Or they could have been happy together. He could have helped her with her magic. She could have helped him protect Balinor. He could have helped her convince Morgause that war wasn't the only way. They would never know.

And then the tears came. They were fat, slow drops that welled in her eyes before finally overflowing and rolling down her cheeks. She was trying hard not to make a sound. She did not want to let him see her lose any more control than she already had.

He was silent. There was nothing else he could say. He was sorrier than she could ever possibly know, but he knew it didn't seem like enough right now.

"IT COULD HAVE BEEN DIFFERENT, MERLIN." She was flat-out yelling, wailing now. Her anger and pain was unbridled.

Morgana had long been unraveling before Merlin's secret came to light, but this was the last straw. Every single emotion she had kept pent up inside was now coming out. She was still mad at herself, for too many reasons than she cared to examine. She was still mad at Uther for all his lies and sins. She was mad at her mother, for betraying Gorlois. She was mad at Gaius, for turning her away with nothing but a placebo. She was mad at the Great Dragon, for passing judgment on her with no cause. What did he even know about her? She was mad at Morgause, for being dead, for making her own sister sacrifice her to the Cailleach.

The ground had shifted long before Morgana had fully realized it, and now there was no going back, no easy solution to smooth out the choices of the past.

"IT COULD HAVE BEEN DIFFERENT." She repeated to herself, not knowing what else to say but wanting to say something. She wanted him to understand that this wasn't what she wanted either.

And that's when the walls started to crumble. Morgana's magic had naturally reacted to her emotions, and as her shouts echoed through the cave, so did her magic.

If the caves ceilings weren't so low then perhaps they would have all gotten out of the way in time before anyone got hurt. The rocks fell too fast, and the ground shook, making it even harder to avoid the falling sediment. Alator's first reaction was to get to Morgana, and teleport them out of there. He was too far away though, and was forced to take a few steps away from her to avoid the large pieces of the ceiling that had fallen in front of him.

Morgana was being too reckless. She was so caught up in her emotions and barely noticed the destruction she was causing until Alator called out her name. She only just caught a piece of falling rock with her magic and tossed it harmlessly to the side before another part of the ceiling loosened and fell. She sidestepped, purposely ignoring Merlin, and tried to get to Alator. She didn't doubt his powers as a Catha, but he seemed to be struggling to keep his balance as the ground trembled.

Morgana's eyes flashed gold, and she saved Alator from being hit by more of the crumbling debris.

She cursed her unpredictable magic. If she had caused the caves to collapse, then why couldn't she fix them too? As she took another step toward Alator, her weight shifted unexpectedly as the ground shook again, causing her to stumble into the wall. There was too much going on. She was trying to keep herself from falling down and regain her footing, all while avoiding the falling rocks and keeping an eye on Alator. Morgana pushed herself against the wall to regain her balance, but the walls had started collapsing as well. Instead, she found herself falling to the ground, and she reached her hands forward to soften the impact.

"Morgana!"

She heard Merlin call her name, but before she had time to fully comprehend what had happened, she found Merlin's arm wrapped around her waist and felt herself being pulled backward.

Another second passed and Morgana was lying flat on her back, her head hitting the ground sharply. She was dizzy, and the dust getting in her eyes was making it hard to see. She reoriented herself, and found none other than an unconscious Merlin lying on top of her. He had protected her, letting his own body receive the blows of the falling rocks.

"Alator." Morgana looked around and was grateful to see her mentor was still okay.

"Don't move, Morgana." The Catha quickly maneuvered his way to the two young sorcerers. "Is he alive?" Alator looked at the unconscious Merlin with concern.

Morgana nodded, her throat too dry from inhaling the dirt and dust floating around in the air. "Can you get us out of here?" She croaked.

Without a further word, Alator grabbed hold on Morgana and Merlin, closed his eyes, and uttered a silent spell, teleporting the trio away from danger.

Morgana was all too grateful that Alator was there. She didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't remained calm and saved them from the crumbling cave. "Thank you, Alator, truly." Morgana uttered those words as soon as they reappeared at the entrance of another cave a feet meters away from the now-demolished one.

"I'm far too old for this, Morgana. Remind me never to let you convince me to bring you on another job." Alator's serious exterior cracked just enough for him to throw her a small, sympathetic smile. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Morgana responded quickly, checking to make sure her mentor was also unscathed. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened."

"You lost control. You let your emotions rule your magic." Alator frowned. "You're better than that, Morgana. What you've just learned should be a reason to celebrate, even if it doesn't feel that way right now."

The last thing Morgana felt like doing was celebrating. She understood the importance of Emrys' existence to Alator though. He had been waiting for the savior the druids had promised him for years. Alator not only confirmed his existence, but had a chance to meet him, speak with him. Morgana would not ruin that for him.

Softly, Morgana murmured another "sorry," before turning her attention to Merlin.

The sorcerer hadn't been hurt _too_ badly. It was still a rough sight to see. She felt a few fractured ribs, and saw his wrist starting to swell, but he didn't have any internal damage. She let out a sigh of relief after assessing his injuries. He protected her, and while she wasn't sure how she felt about him, she was grateful he had shielded her from the rocks.

Healing magic had always come naturally to her, and she focused her mind on treating Merlin's injuries.

Ten minutes later, Merlin was as good as new. His clothes needed a good washing to remove the iron ore soil that now formed a thin layer of rest dust on him, but he would not feel any pain once he woke.

"What do you want to do with him?" Alator questioned once Morgana had finished healing Merlin.

She had no clue.

She was a sorceress, but she was human. She wanted to connect, to belong, to be loved and accepted like anyone else. She was more good than bad, and despite what she had just learned, she wanted to keep moving forward instead of destroying another relationship.

Right now, that meant getting away from Merlin. She didn't trust herself or her emotions to be around the sorcerer currently.

"Leave him here, he'll come to soon." She couldn't bear to look at Merlin's fallen form. "Please, Alator, let's just go."

She couldn't go back with Merlin like he wanted. She didn't want to go back. There was nothing left for her in Camelot. Merlin was right about the fact that they had the same dream, and she knew he had an important role to carry out in Camelot. He had to go back, but she didn't.

She wouldn't run away anymore though. She would run towards something worth believing in. Morgana wanted plans of her own, a future of her own. She had a lot of thinking to do, but she also has a lot of choices. She wanted to follow her own path, not Uther's, not Morgause's, and as much as she loved Alator, not even his. She wanted to commit to something she believed in, something she personally wanted to fight for.

Morgana didn't want to leave Merlin with the memory of her destroying the caves. She didn't want to disappear on him yet again with the way they had left things.

Taking off her healing bracelet, Morgana stared long and hard at the gift from her sister. She didn't need it anymore, she decided. She was strong enough to handle whatever vision of the future would come her way, she was strong enough to walk her own path, and she was strong enough to cope with the reality that Merlin was Emrys.

Carefully, she took Merlin's hand in her, raising it slightly off the ground and placing her bracelet on his wrist. She didn't know what she meant to convey to his with the bracelet, but it just felt right.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Promise the next update won't take so long! Drop a review and let me know what you think! **


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Happy March! I wasn't planning on covering so much of the actual storyline from season 4, but somehow so many of the episodes seemed fitting to touch upon. **

**100 Faves?! Still always overwhelmed by you guys. Extra special thanks to my reviewers: Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714 (Thank you! Your reviews always help me keep Morgana and Merlin in character), Narutoske (Thanks! I figured Morgause needed to come up in the conversation at some point), SD04, TN Sarah, meva desa, 4 mergana (Thanks! Made it on time this week!), Chase (Thanks so much, I can't believe how much my writing has evolved over this fic), phhsdj, LadyDunla (Thank you! I tried to fit as much as possible while keeping it as conversational as possible), Kianix, Rya3SaberVltar (Thanks for the welcome back :)), IndiaMoore, nochance, Olive, Dawn (Thank you. Gaius is fine, and more of the aftermath with him will come in a later chapter!), sjritts (Thanks. Morgana will definitely be coming face to face with the de Bois brothers at some point), Straight Edghe (Thank you. I tried my best not to make her too understanding but also not too whiny and bitter)**

**Disclaimer: Sadly neither Merlin nor Merlin's epic soundtrack belongs to me. **

Magic wasn't something that could be rationalized through the cement lens of Uther Pendragon, nor was it something that could be pushed onto people, the way Morgause wanted, if they did not inherently understand the Gift.

That was something Morgana had come to terms with in the past few months. Seeing Merlin had shaken her, and immediately after their encounter she had tried to push that memory out of her mind, and think about something that didn't matter as much. She buried herself into her magical studies. Seeing Merlin and learning his true identity forced her reevaluate what she believed as the truth.

What she had learned wasn't something she could pretend to ignore forever. And a week after their meeting she had broken down, cursed and cried, and tried to come to terms with the truth. There had always been something special about Merlin. He was probably the cheekiest servant she had ever met, which was good for Arthur, but he was brave and intelligent, and now she knew why.

She wondered if he was all those things because he had magic, or if it was the other way around. She wondered the same thing about herself.

She didn't know the answer to many of her questions, but seeing Merlin had altered Morgana's future. Her dreams shifted, no longer dark and frightening, but warm and exciting. It was like a curse had been lifted. She was no longer trapped, living how others directed her. She had her own will that would not be compromised for the sake of anyone.

She didn't know what to think of her dreams. They were nothing short of lovely, taking place mostly in a beautiful tower, or outside— on a sprawling green field filled with whimsical willow trees and small blue butterflies. And then there were the dreams of dragons.

"_That was amazing," Morgana uttered breathlessly, her carefully plaited hair now askance, and the delicate shawl she had grabbed earlier that morning lost somewhere in the wind._

"_Don't get used to it, my lady," the dragon responded haughtily, but with a wickedly pleased look in his eyes._

_She had been flying on the back of a great dragon, miles and miles above in the sky, and they had just landed in a field of bright yellow chrysanthemums. She turned to slide off the dragon, only to face Merlin._

"_Emrys." She smiled warmly at him. _

"_My lady." He smiled back, bowing in an exaggerated fashion and helping her slide off the dragon. _

_Maybe it was because it was nothing but a dream, a fantasy. Or maybe it was the brightness of the sun and the mums. Maybe Merlin just had the world's most genuine, dazzling smile. Yes, the Goddess had blessed him with those soul-melting dimples. She felt safe and comfortable and happy. _

_He took her hand, intertwining his fingers with her shyly, slowly._

"_What are you doing?" She rolled her eyes, but secretly enjoyed the feeling._

"_You'll see." Merlin looked ever as playful and bright-eyed as when she had first met him. _

_Her heart raced, and she was sure it was beating loud enough for him to hear. What kind of spell had he cast over her?_

She always woke up blushing from her dreams and admonished herself for getting so flustered over her dreams, over _Merlin. _Not that he wasn't cute. He was _definitely _cute. He was cute, and smart, and kind, and had magic like her, but he was _Merlin. _

Morgana couldn't believe she was even thinking about Merlin that way. The line between what was truly a vision and what was just a dream had blurred. She wondered if she would be having these dreams if she hadn't found out Emrys was Merlin. Had she just transposed his face into her dreams now that she knew his identity? Morgana didn't know, but Merlin had completely woven himself into her dreams, her mind, her soul.

He had her thinking about how dashing he was, and she didn't like it one bit. She was supposed to be mad at him, mad for the years of keeping her in the dark, mad for standing with Uther, mad for taking away Morgause, but instead, she felt as though he was a light in her life.

Eventually, she stopped fighting the dreams. Morgana couldn't control everything, and if she wanted to move forward, she needed to change her way of thinking. Though she wasn't ready to admit that Merlin and her could have a future _together_, she was ready to admit that accepting his help, accepting his friendship again was a step in the right direction.

The next step was to leave Alator. She had learned a great deal from him, and gained an invaluable friend, but it was time to take her own path, time to find her own way to repair what she had broken.

Alator understood, perhaps even better than she did. He was old, his role in the fabric of things was set. She was young, powerful, and like Emrys, could bring about great change to the world. He had been waiting for her to realize that, to understand the depth of her abilities, and it seemed as though she was finally ready to take on the responsibilities that came with her magic.

He would always support the young sorceress he now considered a daughter. "Where will you go?"

"The Isle of the Blessed." Her answer was quick, firm. "I will restore it to its former glory. I hope you will visit me then."She gave him a confident smile. She knew this was what she wanted. Morgause had taken her to the Isle many times, and she had felt the magic pulse strongly, even though the Isle was in shambles. It was the center of the Old Religion, and she was a priestess of the Old Religion.

He returned her smile just as brightly. "I would be honored to visit you." He meant it, and he would visit her as often as he could.

Their last week together passed uneventfully. They did nothing more than enjoy each other's company, and when it came time for her to leave, he sent her off with a few old books the priestesses of his past had given him and the promise that he would always be by her side when she needed him.

Morgana did not know how to repay Alator for the kindness he had shown her, and even though she was leaving him, she knew he meant every word of his promise. He had been the mentor, brother, father, and friend she needed at a time where she had no idea what direction to take her life. He provided clarity and reason without making her pick a side. There was never any pressure from him, only unconditional understanding. She would miss him, but she knew he would never be too far away.

Avalon. That was her dream now. Alator had described it many times. It was Paradise, a strange and wonderful island that was unlike any in Albion. In its days of glory, Avalon was an island covered with gardens of flowers and terraces of evergreen lawns. It was beautiful and breathtaking, with fruit trees and blossom trees and a cluster of small castles amidst the plantations, all circling around the tallest tower at the center of the isle that served as a beacon and the focal point of magic. That tower had potent magic, and when the High Priestesses had inhabited the island, the chiefest among the Priestesses had the power to harness that magic and allow the isle to float from place to place.

It was little more than rubble now. A few wildflowers and weeds still grew on the island, but it was hard to imagine the marvel it once was.

Still, there was hope. It was said that the Sidhe had preserved the magic of the Isle of the Blessed and moved it underwater, forming their own sort of Avalon. It was still a place of eternal youth, but even the Sidhe's ancient magic could not recreate an Avalon as magnificent as the original.

She believed she could do it, but Morgana would need a lot of help to rebuild the mystical Isle. First, she needed the Sidhe. They were the key to restoring Avalon. The Sidhe would remember how the Isle of the Blessed was before it was ruined by war, and they possessed the original magic, the essence of the Isle. They were also masters of enchantments, and as Alator recalled, they were the ones who maintained the shroud of mist that hid Avalon from the view of mortals.

It took a week to get the attention of the Sidhe. They had grown too accustomed to their seclusion, and even the call of a High Priestess roused suspicion and uncertainty within them.

"I seek an audience with the Sidhe elders! Do:tiag-sa ar idbairt do denam!" Morgana tried again for the umpteenth time. No matter how long it took, she would not give up. She knew they could hear her, and she would persist until they answered.

Surprisingly, the water churned and the air thickened with magic this time. In mere seconds, numerous blue faeries appeared out of thin air, whizzing over the Lake, moving almost too fast to see.

And then all of a sudden, everything slowed down, and the Sidhe became clear to Morgana. They were delicate looking creatures that glowed a luminous blue and had wispy wings like a dragonfly. She thought it was odd how they wore such old, ragged brown garbs. It was a strange contrast to the mystic aura they exuded.

"Morgana Pendragon, the last High Priestess of the Triple Goddess." What Morgana imagined could only be a Sidhe elder greeted her. "What do you seek from us?"

Morgana shook herself out of the surprise of finally meeting the Sidhe. "I wish to rebuild Avalon."

The Sidhe buzzed in conversation at her statement.

The elder chuckled. "Have you seen the Isle of the Blessed?" He gestured across the lake. "There is no place for Avalon in these times."

"The times are changing. The Isle has withstood many ages and many wars. It is only right to restore it to its former glory."

The Sidhe elder had heard much about the female Pendragon. A lady, a princess, a witch, a Priestess, he wasn't sure what to make of her, but there was nothing he wanted more than to see the Isle of the Blessed restored. "You are the only Priestess left in Albion. Even if we were to help you restore Avalon, we would not have enough magic to maintain the Isle. Besides, the Priestesses made it clear that Avalon was only for Priests and Priestesses of the Old Religion."

"It would be different. Avalon would be a place for those of the Old Religion to gather. Sorcerers, druids, fairies, elves, sprites— it will be a place for anyone with the Gift." Morgana had no desire to live alone on Avalon or deign it a haven only for Priestesses of the Old Religion. As for the magic problem, she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

"And Uther Pendragon? No doubt he will attack the Isle when he finds out its being rebuilt."

"I will protect Avalon."

"You and what army?" The Sidhe elder had seen too many human wars, and he had no desire to bring his people into another petty war when the lives of men passed by so quickly anyway.

"I will not need an army. I'm sure you have heard the prophecies, of Emrys." Morgana was too accustomed to bitterly spitting out that name. It felt too foreign saying his name in a less abrasive context. "He will lead Prince Arthur, my brother, to show Camelot to a new era."

The elder held up his hand. He had heard of Emrys of course, and it was interesting to hear Morgana speak of the warlock and the prince. He had heard all he needed at this point. "We will consider your proposal."

Morgana didn't know what that meant. She had spent a week camping by the lake, waiting for an audience with the Sidhe and she didn't know how long it was going to be until she could talk to them again. Just as she was about to say something else, try to convince them to stay and hear her out further, the Sidhe chief spoke once more.

"Perhaps you can ask the vilia to help you cleanse the Isle in the meantime. And no doubt that once the Isle has been cleansed, you could ask the wood sprites to help you with the greenery."

Morgana smiled internally. She knew would be able to count on the Sidhe.

And just as she expected, a few short days later, as Morgana was clearing the rubble on the Isle, she felt the air shift again and watched as the Sidhe appeared.

"You have a deal." The Sidhe elder notified her simply, and Morgana burst into a relieved grin.

Of course the Sidhe had their demands. They wanted their own area on the Isle. They wanted a castle, preferably by the water. They would handle the enchantments for Avalon, and help rebuild the structures with the original magic they had preserved, but she was entrusted with protecting the Isle and finding a stronger source of magic for the tower. "The original Avalon floated across the lands. It was a kingdom with no boundaries," the old Sidhe recalled fondly. "That sort of magic is more than you or I could maintain."

She didn't know how she would ever be able to find that kind of magic, much less harness it, but she was making progress, little by little.

* * *

The aftermath of the Ridge of Kemeray had been nothing less of a giant mess for Merlin, but there was a silver lining to the entire debacle. Sure he woke up alone, again, a little bit more confused than before, but a little bit more confident in his faith in Morgana. She challenged him to think about all the things he hated thinking about, to face the consequences of the choices he made and the losses he's suffered, but at the end of it all, he knew himself a little better, and he knew her a little better too. Their connection was visceral, their destiny undeniably intertwined. She appealed to his sense of justice, his heart, two things that he too often pushed away in favor of the advice of others. The injustice of his situation, of the situation of all those with magic, was something he had come to accept, had become numb to. In the beginning he told himself he wouldn't let it bother him, because things were going to change. But the injustice continued, and the change never came.

There was still Gaius and Gwaine to worry about though. He only hoped they made it out of the caves in time.

Merlin shook Morgana from his mind and rushed back to Camelot.

That was months ago. Gaius was alright. Agravaine and Gwaine had convinced Arthur that the physician had been kidnapped. Arthur's uncle had Merlin's stomach twist in disgust. He knew Agravaine was the perpetrator of the whole kidnapping. Agravaine was the cancer that was slowly destroying Camelot, and Merlin didn't know how much more of Agravaine's treachery the kingdom could take.

The bigger problem at hand was Tristan though. Merlin never imagined the elder de Bois would ever be a problem again after he was struck down by Excalibur. There were too many questions Merlin had, and too much he didn't understand for his comfort. He was sure that Tristan could not have been revived again as a wraith, but if he was not one, then what sort of creature could he be now? Merlin was slowly starting to connect the dots— from Gwen's disappearance to the intruders during Morgana's execution to Gaius' kidnapping— and he knew it was only a matter of time before Tristan tried again to meddle in Camelot.

Arthur needed to know. Agravaine's hold over the young prince was even more dangerous now that Merlin knew he was working with Tristan. But what could he tell Arthur? If the prince was unwilling to believe that Agravaine could be the traitor, then why would he believe that Agravaine resurrected his brother? And that brought about even more problems. What was he supposed to tell Arthur? That both of his Uncles want him dead because Uther traded away his mother's life? And that thought brought him right back to Morgana. Maybe it was time for the truth.

Of course there was the problem of timing. Arthur was busier than ever now that he was the de facto king. Lately, Merlin had spent more time running errands for Arthur than being in the same room as the prince. The longest time he spent alone with Arthur was at night, when he was making the prince's bed. That was never a good time to bring up Agravaine and Tristan though. Arthur always looked sad at night, and Merlin knew he was thinking about his father, or of Gwen. Every night, Merlin would tap Arthur out of his thoughts, telling the prince his bed was ready, and every night, Arthur would respond with a small, grateful smile. That was something Agravaine would never have with Arthur— the unspoken bond, the unguarded friendship. Arthur put on a strong front for the kingdom, but he didn't have to with Merlin.

It was frustrating though. There were days where Arthur would do nothing but yell at Merlin, telling the young manservant to leave him alone. And in turn, Merlin would stalk angrily to Gaius' chambers, helping the old physician with his brews while complaining about the prince. "I'm done! …Trying to be nice to Arthur. I cook, I clean, I'm always there for him. Not to mention that small matter of saving his life more times than I care to remember. Do I get any thanks? No. All he ever does is shout at me!" Merlin had declared more than once.

Gaius did his best to assuage his ward, but the physician had his hands full with taking constant care of the poor king, who seemed never to do anything more than teeter to and from the brink of eternal sleep. And for whatever reason, Arthur had kept the physician at an arm's length since his return. Whether it was from guilt or residual mistreat, Merlin did not know, but he did not like it one bit. Now, more than ever, Arthur needed good men like Gaius in his circle, but instead, was shadowed by the advice of Agravaine every day.

And of course, just when Merlin thought there was a lull in activity in the kingdom and he would have a chance to have a heart-to-heart with Arthur, the knights would always get themselves into trouble.

The most recent mess was courtesy of Elyan, who disrupted the spirit of a young druid boy. The knights, Arthur included, had trampled through a shrine of the Old Religion, despite Merlin's warnings, and brought back the restless spirit of the boy to Camelot.

Like clockwork, Merlin prepared Arthur's bed at night, but this time, Merlin planned on approaching Arthur about his suspicions towards Agravaine. The timing was still wrong, and Elyan had burst into the prince's chambers, sword swinging. It was all too clear to Merlin that the knight had been possessed, and he could even faintly see the spirit that had seized the knight's body. However, to Arthur and the rest of the court, Elyan had lost his mind from the banishment of Gwen.

"Why are you doing this?" Arthur pushed Merlin out of the way and parried Elyan's sudden attack.

"I must avenge my death." Elyan's voice was odd. He sounded young, like a small boy. "You must pay." His voice returned to normal.

And yet again, the problem of Agravaine was pushed off to address the emergency at hand. It felt different this time though. Merlin couldn't help but worry about his friends, but more than before, he sympathized with the spirit. The boy was no older than ten, robbed of his life for no good reason, and he couldn't even rest peacefully in death. It was too cruel. In the past he would have pushed the boy out of his mind and focused on keeping Arthur safe, but now, his heart was divided. He would always protect Arthur first. Regardless of his destiny, Arthur was his dearest friend, but he no longer pushed away the other feelings in his heart. He wouldn't expel and destroy the spirit. He would help the boy find the peace he unconditionally deserved.

But Arthur, as always, stepped up to the challenge and showed the type of ruler he was. The prince's swordsmanship was by far superior to Elyan's, and within minutes, the possessed knight was disarmed. He was taken to the dungeon by the guards and Arthur was left to try and process what had just happened. Ever the opportunist, Agravaine had yet again tried to convince Arthur to take drastic action.

"Elyan must be tried and punished in accordance with our laws." Agravaine was already ready to jump on an opportunity to rid Arthur of his friends.

"But that would mean putting him to death." Arthur wasn't sure if judgment should be passed on Elyan so quickly.

"Well, so be it. You can't afford to show favoritism."

"What if Elyan wasn't acting of his own volition?"

"What do you mean?"

"Merlin believes that Elyan has been possessed by some kind of spirit."

"Oh. I have no doubt he's just trying to protect his friend."

Merlin _loved _how Agravaine spoke as if he was not in the room. "Why else would Elyan attack Arthur?" Merlin didn't care if he was speaking out of turn. He knew exactly what sort of traitor Agravaine was, and he would not let him convince Arthur to murder Elyan.

Agravaine ignored Merlin, addressing Arthur. "His motive is obvious. He seeks revenge. You banished his sister from Camelot."

"I know Elyan, and no matter what he feels about his sister, he would never attack Arthur." Merlin said with as much civility as he could muster.

"Arthur, you must see. All this talk of possession and spirits, it's just a ruse to save Elyan's neck." Agravaine thought it was such a great shame that it wasn't Merlin who had gone crazy. He was sure the serving boy hated him, but Agravaine was sure he hated Merlin more. For such an insignificant nobody, the manservant's word carried a lot of weight with Arthur.

Arthur looked at Merlin, then back at his Uncle. "But what if it is true? I'd be executing an innocent man. More than that, I'd be executing a friend."

Merlin held back a smile. Arthur could be a clueless ass sometimes, but he always pulled though. Agravaine couldn't mold Arthur into accepting his suggestions. He wasn't his father.

Merlin needed to figure out what the druid boy wanted before it was too late to save Elyan. Arthur had held off Agravaine for the time being, but so long as Elyan was possessed, he would continue be a threat against Arthur and the prince would have no choice but to execute him eventually.

"This shrine…do you think you could find it again?" Gaius asked after hearing Merlin's intentions of appeasing the druid spirit.

"Yes, I suppose so, though I'm not sure I want to." The shrine gave Merlin a sense of dread and uneasiness that he was not eager to return to, but he needed to know everything he could about the spirit in order to help Elyan and Arthur.

And so, against Merlin's insistence, Gaius and the young sorcerer made their way out of Camelot, through the forest, and to the shrine.

"What are we looking for?" Merlin questioned as they entered.

"I'm not entirely sure. But remember, don't disturb anything." Gaius could see why Merlin didn't want to return. There were too many restless souls kept in this shrine, and Gaius had no intention of bringing another one back to Camelot.

"Trust me, I won't." Merlin headed to the left. "I'll look over here. You can check over there." The sooner they left the better.

And then he heard them. The whispers, cries, and screams of the poor, dead druids coming from the well in the clearing. He instinctively walked toward the well, peering down the seemingly bottomless hole. The noises tore at his soul. They were the sounds of frightened children, crying as they watched their parents die, not knowing they were next. They were the screams of men, defenseless to protect themselves or their families. They were druids, people who possessed magic just like Merlin.

"Gaius!" Merlin called the name of his mentor, needing someone to pull him out of the hold of the dark but mesmerizing well. Merlin groaned, shaking his head in an attempt to shake off the sounds he had heard.

"What is the Merlin?" Gaius walked toward his ward, surprised to find him rubbing his head and wiping away streams of tears.

"Something terrible happened here." Merlin's voice was hoarse, and he quickly dried his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket and regained his composure.

"There ruins are in the druid tongue. I also found this." Gaius held up a broken arrow. "There are crossbow bolts scattered all around."

"This was Uther's doing, wasn't it? Merlin's eyes narrowed. The aftermath and consequences of the king's actions seemed to never have a limit.

"It is revenge for Uther's crime that the spirit seeks." Gaius affirmed.

They returned to Camelot in the later hours of the afternoon. Gaius went to check on Uther, and Merlin went to find Arthur, preparing himself to inform the prince of his findings.

"Merlin, good of you to join me. Perhaps I should fill you in on all that's been happening while you've been...well, that's a good question. What the hell have you been doing?" The prince looked up from his papers when Merlin walked in.

"I was—"

"Choose your next words carefully. They may be your last."

And the prat was back.

"I went back to the shrine. Elyan's possessed, Arthur. Of that, I'm sure. It used to be a druid camp, but there's bow bolts and broken spears all over the place."

"And?"

"And your father was relentless in his persecution of the druids. Many died. One of those tormented souls now possesses Elyan."

Arthur didn't want to hear about his father. He didn't want to hear about magic, and he didn't want to hear about tormented souls.

"Enough, Merlin. Elyan will face trial in the morning and we will ascertain the truth then. You have your own duties to perform. Don't let me hear about you wandering around old druid campsites again."

Merlin didn't understand how Arthur could be so thick-headed. He wanted to do nothing but drag the prince off his throne and show him the shrine, show him the beleaguered cries of the souls in the well, of the remnants of the destruction his father had caused. If the prince was unwilling to believe him now, how would he ever believe him when he told Arthur of Agravaine's treachery?

"In druid lore, only the atonement of the perpetrator can bring the spirit peace." Merlin didn't care if Arthur wouldn't listen. The prince needed to know this information.

Arthur didn't respond, looking back into his papers and eating his supper.

Merlin had enough. He was tired of Arthur's moodiness lately. He understood why the prince was feeling agitated, but he wasn't the only one who was frustrated. Merlin was only trying to help, and if Arthur wouldn't listen, then he'd stop wasting his time and his breath. Merlin left the prince alone, slamming the door shut on the way out and heading back to Gaius' chambers to figure out what to do next.

Merlin awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of Camelot's alert bells. Elyan had escaped, and Merlin's first thought was to get to Arthur and make sure the prince was okay.

He sped to the prince's chambers, only to find Leon already there.

"Merlin," the knight greeted hurriedly. "Do you know where Arthur is? His bed is cold and he's nowhere else in the castle."

Merlin's mind raced, trying to figure out where Arthur could be, and then it hit him.

Without bothering to give a response to Leon, he ran to the stables, grabbing Arthur's horse, which was always picked and groomed and ready to go. The moody prat had listened to him, had gone to the shrine, and now he was alone and in danger.

"Hyah." Merlin sped out of Camelot, hoping that Arthur had not gotten too far on foot and was indeed headed to the shrine.

Merlin had slowed to a trot, wanting to be careful and not make too much noise in the dead of the night.

"Merlin."

Merlin almost fell out of his saddle in surprise, and he spun around at the sound of his name. "Fancy meeting you here." He grinned when he saw Arthur appear.

"What the hell are you doing creeping around in the woods?" Arthur was flabbergasted. "And who let you take my horse?"

"I'm following you. What the hell are you doing creeping around in the woods, without your horse?"

Arthur groaned. This was twice in one day that his manservant had snuck out of the castle against his wishes. "It's something I should've done a long time ago." He supposed now that Merlin was here, it couldn't hurt to have a companion.

"Elyan's escaped, Arthur. We have to go back. He could be out here right now. Do you know how dangerous that is?" Merlin urged the prince to turn home.

It was like that news didn't matter at all to Arthur. "I have to face him. Feel free to go back to Camelot anytime you like."

Arthur turned around, continuing forward. Merlin sighed. As if he could let Arthur go alone. Chances are he'd step over some runes or protective charms and bring his own spirit back home.

"You're not going back then?" Arthur heard the hooves of the horse behind him.

"Thought I might tag along. Don't want you getting lost and scared."

Arthur smiled. He had been hard on Merlin lately; he'd let his loyal manservant ride his horse and say whatever he wanted tonight.

They reached the shrine in another half-hour. Merlin dismounted, gently touching Arthur's shoulder to stop him from entering. "You sure you want to do this? Maybe we should wait until its light."

Arthur looked at him incredulously and continued on.

"Fine. Or we could just do it now. Whatever it is that we're doing, in the dark, when it's incredibly scary and dangerous."

Arthur walked to the well, unsheathing his sword and propping it up against the base of a tree.

Merlin looked nervously at the prince. "That a good idea? We might be needing it."

"I'm sorry I lost my temper with you today." Arthur sighed, shifting the conversation.

Merlin was taken aback. "Erm, it's quite alright. You're under a lot of stress." Merlin mumbled. He appreciated Arthur's words, but wasn't sure this was the best time to be having a heart-to-heart.

"I was angry because everything you said today about this place was right except for one thing. It wasn't my father that led the raid on the camp. I did."

Merlin didn't know what to say. This was a side to Arthur he didn't know. The actions that destroyed the druid camp were that of the old Arthur, the young boy who was eager to make his father proud and acted rashly.

But before Merlin could say anything, Elyan stepped out of the shadow of the trees.

"My blood is on your hands. I cannot rest because of what you did." Again, his voice sounded odd, strangled between his normal voice and that of a young child's.

"I know." Arthur looked solemn, and he knelt on the ground, hands on the earth, facing Elyan's direction. "I am responsible for what happened to you. And for all the violence that happened here." Arthur looked around the camp, as if reliving what had happened all those years ago. "When I led the attack on your camp, I was young and inexperienced. I was desperate to prove myself to my men, to my… father." He started crying then.

The possessed Elyan took a step closer to Arthur, his hand on his sword.

"I told the men to spare the women and children, but I know that some of them ignored the order. And there was so much happening. I wanted to stop it… I froze. I didn't know what to do." Remorseful tears continued to flow from Arthur's eyes.

If the prince's word had any effect on the spirit, it did not show. Elyan had drawn his sword, now only a few feet away from Arthur.

"I can still hear the screams. I cannot right this wrong. Nothing I can ever do will change the horrors that happened that day. But I can promise that, now that I am king, I will do everything that I can to prevent anything like this ever happening again. From this day forth, the Druid people will be treated with the respect they deserve. I give you my word."

Elyan was right in front of Arthur now, sword tightly gripped in his right hand.

"I am truly sorry for what happened to you." Arthur was fully prepared for Elyan to strike. He had committed a grievous sin against this young boy, and it was only right that he be the one to pay for it. It would put the druid spirit at rest and return Elyan to his normal self.

And just as Merlin was about to step in, Elyan dropped the sword and gripped Arthur by the shoulder, brining the prince to his feet. Elyan tilted his head, looking at Arthur intently, and hugged the prince.

"I forgive you." The voice that came from Elyan's voice was now purely the spirit's. It was young, innocent, and now full of sincerity instead of anger.

And to Arthur's astonishment, Elyan's body shuddered and he watched as the spirit left the knight's body. Arthur could see him clearly now, a small, Druid boy, skinny even for his age, but smiling genuinely. In the blink of the eye, the spirit disappeared just as surreptitiously as he had first came, and Arthur caught a stumbling, unconscious Elyan.

Merlin slept like a baby when they got home. Elyan was fine. They brought him back on Arthur's horse and Gaius pronounced that Elyan would be fine after a hearty meal and a warm shower.

The knights were infinitely relieved to find their friend safe and sane of mind. Merlin was glad also, but he couldn't tear his mind away from replaying Arthur's words. Sure Elyan was in danger at the time, but Merlin knew Arthur meant what he said when he promised that the Druids would be treated with the respect they deserved. So maybe magic was still outlawed, but the end of the Druid persecution was a big step for the kingdom.

He fiddled with Morgana's bracelet. Merlin didn't know why she had left it with him, but he was pleased that she did. It meant something good, exactly what, he didn't know, but that was also another step in the right direction.

Whether it was because of Arthur's touching actions or because of Morgana's bracelet, Merlin slept the best he had in months. Arthur understood him completely and took his advice to heart, even if he didn't know he had magic. Morgana was the opposite, now knowing about his magic and just beginning to understand him. They were two Pendragons, both kind and powerful, and both working toward the same future in tandem with Merlin.

Tomorrow was another day. Maybe Merlin would tell Arthur about Agravaine and Tristan then, and maybe he would find Morgana again and convince her to help. Merlin was too tired to think clearly anymore. It had been a long day, but he knew for certain now that the future was a bright and shiny place filled with hope and goodness.

And with that last thought, Merlin drifted to sleep.

**A/N: Chapter fin. Debating whether or not the awkwardness that was Arthur and Morgana's unspoken courtship should be addressed at some point. Thoughts? Guesses on how Morgana's going to get enough magic to float Avalon? **

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are love :)**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Late, late, but here we are!**

**Thanks to my wonderful reviewers: Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714 (Thanks! I'm really struggling over if Arthur should find out already or if it's going to take seeing Agravaine's betrayal play out for him to open to eyes to the situation), Darkangel665 (Thanks!) 4 mergana (Thanks! Eventually they will be reunited again!), LadyDunla (Thank you! I think my chapter tend to be longer when I'm playing with the original plotlines), TN Sarah, Rya3SaberVltar, Mike3207, phhsdj, Guest (Thank you! The Great Dragon's going to hear about the rumblings in Avalon soon :)), Kianix, Tsukune08 (Thanks! And I definitely am, my search history is filled with all sorts of strange magical searches haha), Sabine8195 (Thanks! They're going to meet soon. It really depends on how many chapters it takes me to sort of establish Morgana's role on Avalon adequately), SD04 (Thanks! Don't worry, Alator's going to pop up through the rest of this fic intermittently ), Narutoske (Thank you! The three of them were always so great together), icarusLSU (Thank you for reading and following and faving :)), Olive (Thanks! There'll be a bunch of obvious references to the legend in future chapters as well).**

**Thanks for all the feedback about Morgana/Arthur. It'll be forgotten- Camelot's got enough issues as it is already****. Oh, season one writers.**

**Disclaimer: If Merlin were mine there would be lots more baby dragons featured!**

Gaius always knew that there would be a limit to how much he could help Merlin. He knew who Merlin was destined to be, and with that knowledge in mind, he had taught Merlin as much as he could, whether it was in sorcery, the art of healing, or in the delicate matters of the heart. Gaius thought he had done Merlin well. He thought he had been a good mentor. He didn't know if any of that was true anymore.

He revealed Merlin's identity to the Catha. And while Merlin didn't seem to mind, it continued to nag at Gaius. At first, he was heartbroken and mortified that he had divulged Merlin's secret. He apologized mournfully to his young ward, but Merlin had waved it again. And then Gaius came to the realization that Merlin was happy the Catha knew, happy that Morgana knew.

And then all his efforts were put into worrying about Merlin's relationship with the sorceress. When did Merlin start keeping secrets from him? He didn't know what transpired between the two in the caves, but he had known something enormous had changed. He tried asking, but Merlin wouldn't say anything much more than, "It doesn't matter Gaius. We just understand each other a little better now, you know?"

And Merlin always had such a happy look on his face and such a sincere smile when Gaius asked about Morgana that the physician never pressed him for more details. Gaius was deeply concerned though. He knew how Merlin felt about Morgana, and despite Merlin's feelings about her, Gaius still didn't think she should be trusted. Perhaps he was a little biased— she did after all, help in his kidnapping— but Gaius didn't see a world where Morgana Pendragon would be happy. She would never rule Camelot, nor would she ever be able to run Gorlois' estate. She would never belong in Camelot, at least not while magic was outlawed, but she was too driven and too powerful to live a simple life on a farm or in a small village in another kingdom. Morgana was a girl that had everything ripped away from her with nowhere left to go, with nothing left to lose. A girl like that meant nothing but danger.

He wished Merlin would talk to him. He wished Merlin would listen and understand that nothing good would come out of believing in Morgana. He didn't know when Merlin stopped confiding wholeheartedly in him. He didn't know when Merlin had started keeping things to himself. Gaius didn't like it one bit.

But there were days where he understood. Those were the tough days, the days fill with sorrow and self-loathing. Gaius didn't know when he stopped believing in people, stopped believing in good. It was a lot easier that way. It was a lot easier to believe in only Merlin. As long as Merlin was alive and well, it meant the future would be a better place, a place worth any sacrifices along the way. But that made him no better than Uther.

It was days like those, when he'd be taking care of the old king and realize that despite all of Uther's flaws, he still loved Morgana with all his heart. He could yell at her, throw her in a dungeon, or even order her execution, but when it mattered, he would come through for her. Uther, who hated magic more than anything in the world, was willing to use magic to heal Morgana when there were no other remedies. Uther, whose pride often mattered more than doing what was decent and right, was willing to admit to his people that he had made a mistake, that Morgana was his daughter and he could not execute her. And what had Gaius done? Gaius didn't want to think about it. He had been sympathetic to Morgana's situation, but never took action. He had turned her away, lied to her about her magic. He had been just as bad to Morgana as Uther had, but he had never once sought to correct himself. Sure, it pained his heart at times, but he never lost sleep over it. And that was the problem.

Gaius stopped losing sleep over things after the Great Purge. He lost too much then, and life after that was barely living. He hated himself then too, for losing Alice, for supporting Uther. He was the royal court physician, but he didn't care, because there was no one left to care about. Maybe he stopped caring then and never started again. At least, not until Merlin. And when Merlin came along, he spent all his care and love on the boy that there was none left for anyone else.

He didn't want to be that person. He was too old to be that person. He wanted to start living again before he died. He didn't want to die in a world where he didn't believe in the goodness of people. So even though he wasn't sure if Morgana was the best person to start believing in, he would believe in her.

He wouldn't judge anymore, wouldn't question, wouldn't doubt. He would start having faith in people again, the way he used to when he was just a bright-eyed young apprentice, navigating his way through the magic of youth. When love and magic and the inherent goodness of people was as abundant in Camelot as the air they breathed. He wanted to live in the world that he knew Merlin would create, and if that world was to come about, Merlin would need someone to confide in and trust. He could not be that person if he didn't believe in people the way Merlin did.

"Merlin, you're going to tell me everything that happened in the cave. And after that, I'm going to help you with whatever it is you need me to do."

And that was all the prompting Merlin needed. He had been dying to tell Gaius everything that happened, but he didn't think Gaius wanted to hear it. The physician had been strange after his ordeal. Merlin chalked it up to being weary and shocked, and his heart went out to his mentor. Alator was his friend now, but he couldn't help but be angry that Gaius had been tortured. But it was more than that. Merlin knew how Gaius felt about Morgana. He was as stubborn as the Great Dragon when it came to Morgana. Merlin knew what Gaius would say if he told him about their conversation. His mentor had enough to worry about without having to wonder if Morgana was now plotting Camelot's downfall. He loved Gaius, but there was just no point in telling him about Morgana if his mind was already made up about her.

It filled his heart with gladness that Gaius was willing to be open-minded about Morgana. He needed someone to talk to, and his options were limited to Gaius and the Great Dragon, neither of which were great fans of Morgana.

So he spilled his heart out to his mentor. "It didn't end that well." Merlin concluded, rubbing his arm awkwardly, recalling the collapsing caves, but she left me her bracelet. "She's angry, but she understands. I think." He frowned. "She wants what we want."

"And what would that be, Merlin?"

"A world where having magic isn't a crime." Merlin paused. "She's guilty of pursuing that dream to too severe and too drastic lengths, but I'm guilty of not having pursued that dream enough." He sighed.

"You've done plenty, Merlin, don't ever question that. Change is slow and Morgana's never been one for patience."

"Thanks, Gaius." He smiled. "I know you're worried, and I know there's a lot more I need to talk to Morgana about, but she's good, and I believe in her as much as I believe in Arthur."

Gaius was taken aback. He didn't know Merlin believed in her _that _strongly. "And what of Agravaine? Is there any new news?" He changed the subject.

Merlin had told Gaius of Agravaine and Tristan a few days after his return to Camelot. He needed to know how Tristan had returned to life again, and no one would know better than Gaius how something like that would be possible.

Gaius didn't know though. The two of them had spent three nights scouring the physician's old tomes and Merlin even sneaked into the library to further his research but there was no answer, no explanation to Tristan's return.

"I have to tell Arthur." Merlin slammed another useless book closed. "He's in danger and my magic can't protect him. At least if he knows about Tristan he'll have a better chance of protecting himself."

"You have no proof, Merlin. You merely know of a letter that may or may not still in Agravaine's drawer. Agravaine is Arthur's uncle. You've seen how much he trusts him. He won't believe that Agravaine is the traitor; much less that he somehow revived Tristan. Don't drive a wedge between you and Arthur for Agravaine to exploit."

"What am I supposed to do then, Gaius?"

"Well." Gaius handed Merlin another book. "Keep researching. We'll figure out what Tristan is and how to kill him."

But their research was in vain, and Gaius' only conclusion was that he was brought back to life with an ancient and unique magic.

"So how do we kill him?" Merlin had no doubt that the man he faced during Morgana's execution was Tristan. He was killed once with Excalibur, but Merlin didn't know if that would work a second time. There was no sword stronger than one forged in dragon's breath, but he didn't want to risk facing Tristan again without knowing exactly how to defeat him. And Gaius was right, he never wanted Arthur to know that Tristan de Bois was after his life. Tristan was an uncle Arthur never knew existed, and Merlin wanted to keep it that way. Agravaine's betrayal would come to light eventually, Merlin was sure of it, and that was heartbreak enough for Arthur. He would kill Tristan himself, before Arthur ever had to know.

"I don't know." Gaius sighed wearily, shutting the last book he had about the Old Religion. "We'll figure it out." He patted Merlin in a comforting manner. "Don't worry. Once we figure out what sort of creature Tristan is, we'll know how to kill him again."

To that end, Gaius had relived Merlin of all his normal duties as the physician's apprentice. "Keep an eye on Agravaine when you're done with Arthur's chores."

Merlin tailed Agravaine in his spare time to no avail. The man's life was incredibly boring. He spent a great deal of time ordering people around and drinking wine. The rest of the time he spent behind closed doors with Arthur, much to Merlin's aggravation, or locked up in his room. Merlin would peek through Agravaine's keyhole, but it seemed like Agravaine spent most of his time in his chambers sleeping or writing.

He was going to exposure Agravaine was a traitor with the letters. Agravaine was writing to Tristan and leaking information from Camelot. If Merlin could intercept a letter then he would have the proof he needed to convince Arthur of Agravaine's treachery.

But the timing was never right, and Merlin seemed to always miss when Agravaine snuck out his letters, or perhaps he just wasn't writing to Tristan that often.

But one day, just as Merlin finished picking Arthur's horse's hooves, he overheard a conversation between the stable-hand and a young errand boy.

"Sorry Mister Seward, I've got errands to run for Lord de Bois."

* * *

Gwen spent a good two months with the farmer, Acton, before a younger, more able-bodied man traveled through the village, looking for work. Sympathetically, the farmer had broken the news to her. He always felt uncomfortable letting a lady do manual labor for him, but he desperately needed the help.

He had grown fond of Gwen, it was hard not to, and he had promised that she'd be able to find work with his sister. She worked in the royal kitchens as the pastry chef, and he had written to her about Gwen many times. It would be easier work— indoors, with no manure and plenty of other young ladies to chat with.

She took Acton up on his offer. She had nowhere else to go and was also accustomed to working in a castle, the nuances required in interacting with royals and the hierarchy of servants.

So it was no surprise that she fit in easily in her new home. She was a quick learner, and Acton's sister soon promoted her from egg beating to making the lattice crust on the king's favorite pie. She worked fast, and in her spare time she helped the older servants, doing laundry or polishing armor, and the other servants quickly grew fond of her.

Gwen was the type of girl that was easily approachable. She was friendly and kind, and even the Queen noticed her efforts. The Queen was a woman who was very much in control of her kingdom, and it seemed like wherever she went, she would see Gwen. Gwen was in the kitchens, rolling dough. She was in the halls of the castle, laying down freshly washed carpets. She was in the blacksmith's workshop, hammering bright red iron into shape. It was refreshing to see such a servant.

Gwen was easy to love and loved easily. She had captured the hearts of Arthur and Lancelot. She had caught the eye of Gwaine and many a knight in Camelot, and it was no different here. She was blind to any affection though. Her heart was wholly Arthur's, and regardless of the life she was building in this new kingdom, she refused to let herself love anyone else.

She couldn't convince herself that her story with Arthur was over. It couldn't be over, not while she didn't understand why she had even betrayed him. In the months of her banishment, she had walked through that night again and again in her head. She had loved Lancelot once, but any feelings she had for him were incomparable to those she had for Arthur. And even if she had loved Lancelot more, she would have told Arthur, would have never accepted his promise ring.

But she didn't. She broke the prince's heart and sent Camelot's noblest knight to his death, and she didn't understand why.

* * *

Perhaps Morgana wasn't as open and approachable as Gwen was, but it didn't mean she wasn't good at making friends, she just never had to. She was a lady, the king's ward, and people crowded around her. And when she had left Camelot, making friends was the last thing on her mind. She had Morgause, and that was all she needed. Even when she was with Alator, she never expected to grow so close with him. She was there to learn magic, nothing more.

But to build Avalon, she needed a great deal of help. In the months that passed, the outpouring of support from all edges of the Five Kingdoms was overwhelming. The Sidhe called on their pixie servants to enlist help and soon, news that Morgana Pendragon had seemingly taken up permanent residence traveled quickly. Then news of the Sidhe, coming out from years of isolation, had joined the sorceress, followed just as rapidly.

New friends seemed to trickle in every day, and soon Morgana had the Sidhe, a small army of pixies, a handful of dwarves, and local vilia helping rebuild Avalon.

That was followed by a wave of new supporters, consisting of old forest spirits that had since abandoned Avalon, never thinking it would be revived again, a clan of kelpies, and a ragtag group of witches from Meredor.

The magic in Avalon slowly grew, as did the gardens and castles on the island. One castle soon became five, and barren land soon became blossoming gardens.

Once, Morgana had woken up in the dead of night, and looking around the eerily empty castle, came across a hardy group of brownies, patching up the windows in the west tower. Hearing her footsteps, they stopped their work and looked up. When they saw Morgana, they smiled and waved, and duly went back to their work. From that night on, Morgana made sure to leave a little bottle of milk and some bread and honey every night for the newest residents of Avalon.

Bit by bit, Avalon was fully restored to its former glory, and perhaps even better than it was before, as it was now a hidden sanctuary for the magical community and not a rigid place of rituals for High Priestesses.

As promised, Alator visited, bringing along his own small army of friends to help.

"Never, in all my days…" he barely choked out, eyes welling with tears, when he saw the Isle of the Blessed.

"I want you to live here." Morgana cut straight to the chase. Avalon was Alator's home, and it was only right that he come home now that it was possible. "You'll have your own castle, and there's plenty of room for anyone else that's been without a home after the Purge. Please say you'll stay, Alator."

Alator couldn't speak, couldn't answer. He barely remembered an Avalon that wasn't completely desiccated. Morgana, his Morgana, the girl who he had been so apprehensive to take in at the beginning, had built this wondrous place in mere months. It was truly the dawn of a new age, the age of people like Morgana and Emrys that could change the world. He would accept her offer, and watch firsthand the change she would bring to the kingdoms.

It was weird for Morgana, having Alator here with her and watching the castles on Avalon fill up. It was strange, walking downstairs in the morning for breakfast only to find the Great Hall filled with her new friends, chatting and eating away. It was odd to call them her friends. It wasn't because there were all sorts of creatures living on Avalon now, it was because no one seemed to care that all sorts of creatures were now living on Avalon. If anyone had heard that Morgana Pendragon was an evil witch that tried to destroy Camelot, it was long forgotten. She had opened herself up, and to them, she was just Morgana.

Morgana felt happy. She felt safe and she felt loved. The Sidhe and vilia assured her that no human would be able to navigate through the fog and reach Avalon, and the kelpies wickedly promised her that any unwanted strangers who decided to brave the boat ride over to the Isle would get a complimentary underwater ride from them.

The world was no longer chaotic and difficult to change. She was strong, but she was even stronger now that she had friends who wanted the same thing as her. She didn't need to cause conflict to right the injustices that made her burn with anger. Sure she would fight if she had to, but she had Avalon now, a place to help those who were chased away from the other kingdoms. She would protect Avalon, protect those who couldn't protect themselves. She would teach those who had magic but didn't know how to harness it. Morgana's future was becoming clearer and clearer with each passing day. This was the way she would change the world.

Of course Morgana still kept tabs on Camelot. She didn't see the harm in keeping up with her old home, and she was more than a little curious as to how Merlin spent his time now that she knew he was Emrys. Did he use magic all the time? Did he tell Arthur about her? And she also kept tabs on Agravaine. He was up to something, and she would find out what.

Most of the time, when she was looking into her orb, nothing too interesting was happening.

Agravaine's life was a frightful bore. There had been many a day during her time at Camelot where Morgana was sure she would explode if Gwen suggested she comb her hair once more to pass the time, but Agravaine's life was even more sedimentary. If he wasn't lurking over Arthur's shoulder, he was holed up in his chambers, staring out his window, no doubt plotting his next step.

Merlin's life was much more interesting to watch. Even when he was alone, he didn't use magic, even when that meant spending two hours hand-washing all of Arthur's dirty clothes and linens. He was already working when she woke up in the morning, and he was still working when she checked her orb before retiring for the night. And instead of annoying and spineless, she found his actions nothing short of charming. Emrys scrubbing Arthur's practice breeches, who would have imagined?

She liked him.

She liked that the fact that he had magic didn't change his attitude, didn't tempt him to take shortcuts.

She liked that he was so humble, yet so unimaginably strong and powerful.

She liked he wore her bracelet, that he accepted her gift without reservations and kept it on him at all times.

She liked watching him, and not in a creepy, obsessive way, or in an evil, maliciously plotting way. She liked watching him because he had always seen her for who she was, even when she didn't know it, and now she was getting to see him for who he was, even though he didn't know it.

**A/N: Gwen's back. Any guesses as to whose castle she's in? And is Arthur finally going to find out about Tristan and Agravaine?**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing :) **


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Happy Monday! I may start updating every Monday for my sanity/social life. **

**Spot on guesses for where Gwen is!**

**Broken broken record, but I so appreciate every review, fave, and follow :) Extra extra love for my reviewers, Rya3SaberVltar (Thanks! Hah, I liked Helios too, but not sure if he'll make it into this fic), Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, justareader13 (Thanks! It's about time time, huh?), IndiaMoore, LadyDunla (Thank you for reading!), SD04, icarusLSU (Thanks! Merlin's going to hear about Avalon eventually!), phhsdj (Thanks!), sjritts (They'll be reunited soon!), 4 mergana (Thanks! Haha, a bit more plot to get through before more mergana though), nochance, Mike3207, Guest, Ola, Kianix (Thanks! I'm glad you picked up on that bit haha), Narutoske, Fangirl17, TN Sarah, BlueMoonMaples, Olive, Penas e Pergaminhos, and Sabine8195.**

**You guys are so encouraging and wonderful :)**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. **

If he didn't know better, Agravaine would have guessed that Merlin had magic. The scrawny manservant had survived far too many dangerous situations that even the sharpest and strongest of Camelot's knights would have trouble getting out of.

"It was too dark. I didn't see who was there with me. He was tall, oh, and bald. Beyond that, I don't recall. I don't think he survived the collapse though. I barely made it out of there myself." Arthur's insipid servant had returned hours after Agravaine and Gwaine brought Gaius back, and reported the destruction of the caves.

Agravaine tried not to groan when he heard Merlin's report. How had a mere servant outlived one of the most skilled Priests of the Old Religion?

After that, Agravaine decided to lay low for a while. Arthur was determined to figure out who the traitor was, and although Agravaine was almost positive that the young prince would never suspect him, he still felt uneasy.

Tristan had no problem with waiting. The elder de Bois was hard at work training Odin's army. Though Odin's men outnumbered Arthur's knights, they lacked the skill and training Uther so diligently implemented in Camelot. War was inevitable, and Tristan would make sure the men on his side had every possible advantage.

It was just a matter of time for war to break out. Odin's men were nothing if not bloodthirsty, and forcibly overrunning Camelot was high on the list of options Odin and Tristan discussed.

Even if they faced Camelot head-on, Tristan refused to move until they had the upper hand. Sure, Agravaine would help Odin's forces penetrate the castle, but there had to be more they could do to give themselves the advantage.

Luckily for the de Bois brothers, Camelot had plenty of other enemies and a young prince who was too eager to reassure his people that he would be a strong ruler.

Camelot and Uther were in many ways synonymous, and that's what made changing Camelot so difficult for Arthur. He had his own plans for the kingdom, but every change he made felt like a personal affront against his father. Arthur loved Uther and he loved Camelot and so he had always sought his father's approval. Uther was his only parent, and from a very young age Arthur understood that it was them against the world. He believed he would always side with and support his father. But Arthur was also his mother's son, even if he never knew the woman. As he grew older, he began to understand that perhaps Uther's ways were not the best ways. He was becoming his own person, a different type of ruler than Uther, but he was still loyal to his father. The smaller changes were easier. He had pardoned the druids and lifted the rigid restrictions for knighthood, and each of those actions were defining moments of his leadership, but he was not yet ready to make the big changes that Camelot needed.

So while Arthur was trying to be his own man, the shadow of Uther still lurked closely behind him.

It was because of that nagging feeling, the conditioned response of thinking "What would my father have done?" that got Arthur in trouble.

And of course Agravaine only aggravated things.

Arthur's men had captured a group of men from the kingdom of Caerleon a few days ago. They had been caught trespassing in Camelot, armed and no doubt planning to attack one of Camelot's village. Arthur considered their capture a great victory. What made it an even greater victory was that King Caerleon himself was among the prisoners. Arthur had never met the King of Caerleon, but the royal crest of Caerleon was etched clearly on the man's necklace.

It should have been an opportunity to display mercy and good faith between two kingdoms that did not need any more conflict, but that was not the path Arthur chose to take.

"This is not the first time he's trespassed on our lands." Arthur had contemplated how to best deal with Caerleon's capture, consulting his Uncle for advice.

"No, Sire. Only last week he seized the village of Stonedown on the western borders." Agravaine reminded the prince of Caerleon's previous transgressions.

"We're not on the borders now, Agravaine. This is the heart of the kingdom. He took a grave risk coming here."

"Perhaps he doesn't see it that way. I fear it's no coincidence that all this has happened since Uther's taken ill."

"What do you mean?"

"Arthur, your father was a strong king. His enemies feared and respected that strength."

"Are you saying I'm not worthy of that respect?" Arthur bristled at Agravaine's words.

"No, Sire, not at all. There isn't a citizen of Camelot who would not lay down their life for you. But your enemies...to the enemies of Camelot, you are still untested as a leader. You must send a clear message that any action against Camelot will be met without mercy."

"Did we not achieve that here today?" Arthur didn't know what his Uncle was suggesting he do.

"No, Sire, not enough. Not enough to deter the likes of Odin and Bayard and the countless others who covet Camelot's wealth."

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"I suggest…" Agravaine paused to think. "I suggest that we force him to accept a treaty on our terms. He must withdraw his men from our land, return our territories to us. He must surrender Everwick."

"He'd rather die than agree to such terms."

"Then you are left with no choice."

"I can't just kill a man in cold blood."

"Arthur, you must do what you need to do to assert your authority on this land." Agravaine was surprised as how much he sounded like Uther.

"Well, there must be another way."

Agravaine gave his nephew a hard look. "There is no other way." And with that last statement, he left the prince to think over his options.

Arthur couldn't sleep after that conversation. They set up camp for the night, and the prisoners were under the careful watch of Arthur's knights. He should have been able to rest easy, but Arthur spent his night thinking.

If Arthur couldn't sleep, it meant Merlin couldn't sleep either. For every step Arthur took forward, Agravaine tried to drag him three steps back. There was only so much Merlin could say to Arthur without making it seem like he was attacking his uncle.

"So." Merlin sidled himself next to Arthur. "What are you going to do?"

If he wasn't so worried and so tired, Arthur would have smiled. Loyal, caring Merlin, couldn't be trusted with the laundry but could be trusted with advice for matters of the heart and matters of the State. "My father was a great king, but I don't have his wisdom or his conviction. I can only follow his example and do what he would've done."

"You're going to draw up this treaty?"

"I have to show my strength. Show that I'm worthy of my father's name."

"Caerleon won't sign it. You know that?"

"Caerleon brought this upon himself."

"Arthur." Merlin wanted nothing more than to rip away the red cape Arthur wore. The prince kept staring at it, staring at the dragon crest, the crest of the Pendragons. Uther was one type of Pendragon, Arthur was another, and Merlin could see that Arthur was having a hard time trying to be the man he wanted to be and being the man he thought his father wanted him to be. "You've always shown mercy in battle. You've never sought to humiliate your enemy in this way. This isn't like you. This isn't who you are."

"You have no idea what it is to make these decisions. Decisions that will shape the future of this land."

"Arthur—"

"So, please…stick to what you do know." Arthur didn't mean to sound so harsh. Merlin's words meant the world to him, but it was hard to hear. He wanted to meet his friend's expectations, but he couldn't. He wanted to be the man Merlin thought he was, but he couldn't, at least not when he knew that wasn't the man his father would have wanted him to be.

The next morning, Merlin's heart sank when he saw Agravaine presenting King Caerleon with a scroll.

"What is this?" Caerleon looked at the scroll with a frown, refusing to take it.

Agravaine handed the scroll to Leon, who opened it and started reading. It was a treaty agreement. To be more accurate, it was a demand for Caerleon to give up his claim to Everwick.

"You expect me to sign this? To humiliate myself before you?" The disdain and revulsion in Caerleon's voice was clear. He did not care if he was in chains, a prisoner of Camelot. He would never give away land that been in his family's control for decades.

"You invaded our kingdom and took what did not belong to you." Agravaine spoke for Arthur.

"And if I do not sign?"

"Then you will pay with your life."

Caerleon scoffed at Agravaine. The man before him was not a knight, not a warrior. He had a soft face, soft hands. Caerleon would not submit to the requests of a man so beneath him "And who makes these terms?"

"Arthur Pendragon." Arthur's voice rang out clearly, and the young prince walked forward to face his prisoner.

"Very well." There was no hesitation in Caerleon's voice. "Then make it quick." With a harsh jerk, Caerlon freed himself from the grips of the knights holding him in place. Caerleon kneeled, ready for his fate. He would rather die than give up Everwick.

"Think what you're doing, Caerleon. This treaty could seal a truce between us. There would be peace. Like there was between your father and mine." Arthur didn't want Caerleon's death.

"I am not my father. And you are not Uther. Do you really have the guts to kill me?"

"You leave me no choice."

"You do not choose anything, boy. It is I who choose to die, and I alone. Now, get on with it." He would not let the likes of Arthur Pendragon dictate his fate.

Caerleon bowed his head down, giving Arthur clear aim at his neck.

"So be it."

The days after Caerleon's death were peaceful. Gaius had reported that Uther was finally getting better and showing some signs of response. Arthur had just knighted two new men, and Merlin, for once, seemed to remember to do all his chores. Camelot was doing well and the doubt Arthur had about his decision started to fade away.

"Your resolve has already earned the respect of both the council and the people alike. Your father would be proud of you." Agravaine reassured the prince one day, as he wrapped up his report about the castle's wheat inventory.

"Thank you, Uncle. I don't know what I'd have done without your support and counsel." Arthur meant every word. Agravaine was the type of advisor he needed, someone who wouldn't let Arthur's emotions and personal beliefs dictate what was best for Camelot. Agravaine was the type of advisor Uther would have chosen.

Their conversation was cut short when Sir Leon strode in. "Sire. A messenger this minute arrived."

"What is it?"

"An army. They crossed our border at first light," Leon gravely reported.

"An army? Whose army?"

"Caerleon's queen."

The calm had ended and the calamity had begun.

* * *

Queen Annis always knew there was a chance Caerleon would die in battle.

He was a fighter, always preferring to be on the front lines with his men than giving orders from the throne, and that was what she loved about him. He was a man of action and a man of honor.

Annis never tried to stop him from fighting or ask him to back away from a fight. Dying for the kingdom was an honorable way to pass and it was something she would never take from him.

So when Caerleon's men bore his body back to the castle, though she felt her heart breaking, she held herself together. Caerleon would not have wanted her to grieve. He would have wanted her to be proud of him, of his sacrifice.

Annis pulled back the sheet that covered her king's body, wanting to gaze upon her lover's face one last time. She hoped he did not suffer too much, but she readied herself to see the wounds of battle her husband sustained.

It almost would have been better if he had been he had been bruised and broken, at least that would have been something she would expect. What she saw when she lifted the sheet was more disturbing than the most gruesome injury.

"This… this is no battle wound. This is the work of cowards!" Annis felt her body tremble with rage. She looked at the men who had returned, searching their faces for answers.

No man would meet her eyes. They were all too ashamed at the humiliation their king suffered in his last moments.

"Arthur will pay for this, by God. The whole of Camelot will pay for this!" There was not enough destruction she could vow to bring down on Camelot to assuage her anger.

The passing of Caerleon was sorrowful news for the entire kingdom. The people of Caerleon deeply loved their king and queen. It was easy for rulers to talk about honor and fairness, but Caerleon had always done right by his subjects. He didn't hoard away coffers of gold in the castle. He never denied his people access to the grain reserves during times of famine. He didn't wear lavish royal robes. He was the king, but he felt like an old, dear friend to his people.

When Annis declared her intentions to go to war against Camelot, preparations started immediately. The servants in the castle rushed to and fro, making sure the war horses were ready for battle, cooking enough bread to sustain the army during their journey to Camelot, sharpening the swords of the soldiers that would strike down the cowards who killed the king.

The servants were just as ready for war as the soldiers were, as Annis was. The servants were all ready to see Arthur's head on a stake. The servants were all ready save for Gwen.

* * *

Morgana was happy on Avalon.

If possible, she would have liked to completely forget about Camelot, about Uther and Arthur, about being a Pendragon. She had a fresh start on the Isle of the Blessed but was plagued by visions and thoughts of her past.

She read Uther's records of the Great Purge. She wanted to accurately understand the history in its entire truth. Morgana didn't comprehend the extent of Uther's sins against magic until Alator and her delved into the records. The king's hate for magic was single-minded, blind to age or gender or guilt. The sheer number of deaths was unbelievable. Uther killed those who tried to fight back, he killed those who surrendered, he killed those who came in peace, he killed those who promised they would never use magic. Perhaps what was even harder to read were the entries of Arthur's battles. Morgana knew he led small troops in Uther's name, she just didn't realize who he had been fighting. She wondered how Arthur could have slaughtered defenseless women and children.

The records reminded her of what she was trying to achieve on Avalon. She cut herself off from Camelot after that, wouldn't look in her orb anymore. Morgana Pendragon was a cruel murderer. The Lady Morgana was a lost and confused girl with no direction. The daughter of Gorlois had stopped existing too long ago to even remember. She wasn't sure who she was now exactly, but she wasn't a girl who belonged to Camelot anymore.

Of course that didn't stop her from having visions of her old home.

She tried to ignore them. She didn't want to see Camelot's future, didn't want to have anything to do with the kingdom anymore. There were more important things to worry about. She still needed to find a source of power strong enough to lift Avalon into the sky. Despite the tremendous progress that had been made on the Isle, she knew no one would feel completely safe until Avalon was completely inaccessible by those who sought to destroy magic.

And her will went a long way. She could push away many of her visions. Whenever she found herself having a vision of Camelot, she snapped herself out of it, removed herself from scene that was about to unfold. Her new friends were a great deal of help, offering herbs and draughts to help her sleep. And because they understood who she was and what powers she possessed, their remedies worked wonders.

But some visions could not be ignored forever. Some visions were too important to be ignored

_She saw Camelot castle. She saw dead bodies strewn everywhere. She saw Arthur fighting the man she had seen at her execution in the throne room. Arthur called him by the name Tristan. The prince was losing. He was bleeding from his side, his arm, his leg. With one firm strike from Tristan, the prince went down. _

_And then all of a sudden she was outside the throne room, in the hallway. Leon was dead, Gwaine was dead, their bodies blocking the entrance to where Arthur was. _

_The scene changed again, this time to Gaius muttering a spell, trying to defend himself against an approaching soldier. One soldier fell, but was replaced by three more._

_And now she was with Merlin. He was crying, shaking a bleeding body on the ground. "It's not your time, Arthur." _

Morgana didn't understand what she was supposed to take from her dreams, what she was supposed to do with this information. Part of her wanted to warn Arthur, or at least warn Merlin. Part of her knew that was the right thing to do.

She had made her peace with Camelot, at least, some semblance of peace. But while Morgana was no longer hell-bent on revenge, she wasn't sure if she was eager to help her old home either. That part of her wanted to just store her visions away. If Camelot fell, then it was well deserved, perhaps even long overdue.

That had always been Morgana's problem. She had too many conflicting feelings and thoughts. From the beginning, she had always wanted justice, but never knew how to pursue it. If Arthur's weakness was too rashly deciding to follow his father's path, then Morgana's was never deciding her own path until it was too late to choose. And even now, when she had the knowledge and the power to shape the future, she couldn't decide what she would do.

But perhaps she would have help deciding.

"My lady?" Moronoe, one of the witches from Meredor, had breathlessly ran up the stairs in the tallest tower on Avalon, where Morgana was known to spend most of her time while trying to figure out how to power the Isle.

"What is it?" Morgana asked her friend.

"You have a visitor." Moronoe looked nervous.

"Who is it?" Morgana frowned, wondering who would make Moronoe so tense.

Moronoe tilted her head toward the window. "See for yourself."

Morgana walked to the window, her jaw dropping at the sight outside.

"Dragon," she whispered, a chill running through her. There wasn't much Morgana feared anymore, but she had hoped she would never have to face the old dragon that had convinced Merlin her death would secure the future of Albion.

**A/N: What has Arthur done? How will Merlin fix it? What does Kilgharrah want with Morgana? Brownie points if you can guess his new nickname for Morgana! **

**As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: So for once I'm early!**

** I know some of you have been wondering about this. ********Agravaine's going to make a big move soon so his secret treachery won't drag out for too long, and ****I haven't forgotten about the whole romance side of this fic either!**

**Super thanks to watchfuldreamer, Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, Rya3SaberVltar, icarusLSU, Black Alnair, chronos the cookie thief, LadyDunla, 4 mergana, phhsdj, MildeAmasoj, Kianix, Mike3207, sjritts, Narutoske, Olive, Penas e Pergaminhos, Sabine8195, and TN Sarah. Reviews make me happier than thin mints :)**

**Disclaimer: Merlin does not belong to me. **

Blaine didn't like delivering messages for Agravaine. He wasn't a particularly nice man. He was short and terse, and if Blaine wasn't so scared that Agravaine would hit him, he would have retorted that everyone, from Prince Arthur to his infamously inefficient manservant, had better manners. Tristan was equally as curt, but only because he seemed to be so busy, giving orders and sending messengers to and fro. At least Tristan gave him the occasional copper coin as a reward for his services.

So when Blaine couldn't find Agravaine in his room or in the main square, he decided he'd look for the Lord another time. If it was something really important, Blaine knew he'd be sent for again shortly. No need to waste his time chasing Agravaine when he was probably in a meeting with the prince or the knights. Besides, he heard there was trifle being made in the kitchens today.

What neither Blaine, nor Merlin, who had followed the younger boy around the castle in the search for Agravaine, knew was that Agravaine and Arthur were being delivered the news of Annis' intention for war.

Merlin had followed the boy from Agravaine's room to the armory. When it became clear that Blaine had given up on finding Agravaine for the moment, Merlin rushed to find Arthur, sure that Agravaine was whispering more treacherous advice into the ear of the young king.

He slipped into the throne room to find Agravaine and a group of knights deep in conversation with Arthur.

"We'll advance from here and here." Arthur pointed to two locations on a map. He looked up briefly when he heard the click of the door close behind Merlin. "Leon, Elyan, you have your duties. The rest of you, pack your bags and get some rest. We have a long journey in the morning." Arthur dismissed the knights and looked straight at Merlin.

The look on the prince's face scared Merlin. He looked genuinely distraught. Merlin waited for the room to empty out, and when the last knight had exited he walked to Arthur, searching his eyes for an answer. "What's happened, Arthur?"

"Caerleon's queen has declared war. At a forced march, Caerleon's men will reach Camelot by sundown tomorrow, which means we have no choice. We must intercept them before they reach the ridge of Landshire. That way, we hold the high ground. The knights of Camelot make ready as I speak. We ride at dawn. What have I done, Merlin?"

Merlin bit his tongue. "You did what you thought was right."

"No. I did what I thought was expected of me. I should have done what you suggested. I should have done what I thought was right."

"And what was that?"

"I should have shown Caerleon mercy." Arthur sighed heavily. "We wouldn't be in this situation now."

"There's not a knight, not a man in Camelot who would not die for you, Arthur. Your people believe in you. They're honored to fight in your name."

Arthur nodded. The loyalty of his men was unrivaled, and he could not have asked for a better group of men to lead into battle. "I wonder if I deserve their loyalty."

"No one could care more for their men than you do. To send them into battle is not a decision that you would make lightly, and they know that."

"But was it the right decision, Merlin?"

"If there was any other way out of this situation, you would take it. But you must defend Camelot. You have no choice."

"I had a choice...to let Caerleon live or die. I made the wrong decision. And now I've brought this war upon Camelot myself." Arthur could not stop beating himself up over that choice. Even _Merlin _could tell that killing Caerleon was the wrong choice. Perhaps the benefit of hindsight had given Arthur clarity, but he couldn't believe how he thought executing Caerleon would result in anything other than war.

"Arthur...no one is prepared to sacrifice more for the sake of this kingdom than you. Your decision was made in the best interests of Camelot." Merlin couldn't let the prince doubt himself the night before heading into battle. That was no way to lead men to victory.

"Maybe. Now my men must pay for it with their lives."

"Merlin, we leave at dawn. Pack a medical bag."

"Gaius isn't coming?" The court physician always travelled with the knights to major battles.

"My father," Arthur reminded Merlin pointedly. "Agravaine will also stay behind to help take care of Camelot while we are away."

"Did he suggest that or did you?" Merlin's mood darkened.

"Merlin." Arthur's voice was stern. "Not today. I suggested it. Elyan and some of the other knights will be staying behind as well."

Every fiber of his being was telling Merlin that Agravaine staying behind was bad news. He had let Arthur make one bad decision and it now resulted in war. He would not let Arthur make another one. "When will be a good day to talk about it then, Arthur?" His words reminded him of the question Alator had asked him that night in the caves. "Will there ever be a good time to realize that you're being betrayed by your uncle?"

"ENOUGH. Merlin. What have I said about this? He's my Uncle. I don't understand why you have such a problem with him."

"Can't you see that his arrival to Camelot has brought nothing but trouble? He was the one who wanted you make an example of Caerleon. How convenient that he was drugged with a sleeping potion while Gaius was kidnapped and your father poisoned. And how—"

"NOT ONE MORE WORD OUT OF YOU, MERLIN." Arthur sounded far too much like Uther now, his voice booming with anger. "He is my uncle, and you will not utter one more lie about him. I will pretend this conversation never happened, Merlin, because you are my friend. Do not push me."

"BECAUSE I AM YOUR FRIEND, I AM TRYING TO SAVE YOU FROM MORE HEARTBREAK, ARTHUR." Merlin would make Arthur face the truth. "HE MAY BE YOUR UNCLE, BUT HE'S NOT YOUR FAMILY. HE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT YOU." Merlin faced Arthur defiantly.

"GET OUT. So help me, Merlin. If you don't get out right now I don't know what I'll do."

Arthur was shaking and when Merlin met his eyes, the pure rage in them scared him. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you." Merlin stormed out, hurt by Arthur's reaction and frustrated that nothing had been done to deter Agravaine's influences over the prince.

For a Pendragon, Arthur was rather good at controlling his temper. Uther would have executed a servant for ever speaking out of turn like Merlin had. Merlin's head would have been rolling across the throne room before he even had a chance to badmouth Agravaine.

But it was Merlin. Whenever things were tough, no, whenever things were painfully unbearable and seemingly hopeless, Merlin was there by his side, encouraging him through it. Arthur ran his hand around the edges of the round table. "A table that affords no one man more importance than any other," he murmured to himself. Merlin had been with him through all his toughest trials and dangerous quests. He had jumped in front of a Dorocha for him, saved him from everything from crazy elopements to being poisoned. He was a servant, but Arthur trusted Merlin more than anyone, more than Agravaine even.

In the back of his mind, Arthur knew there was something odd with his uncle. At the very least, he hadn't been part of Arthur's life until Uther fell sick. Agravaine had never come to the castle for his birthdays, or even Arthur's coronation. And there were many times where Arthur felt as though he was being pushed into a decision he didn't want to make. But Agravaine had come at a time when Arthur desperately needed an uncle, and it was easier to believe in Agravaine than to face the tiny seed of misgiving Arthur held.

No, what Arthur needed at the moment was to review his plan of attack, and then sleep. He didn't need to think about Merlin or Agravaine. He hoped Merlin was cooling off. Merlin had a strange habit of disappearing randomly, and while Arthur was slightly worried, he knew that Merlin would be there in the morning, be there for him when they departed for war.

Something wicked, something horrid was coming for Camelot. Merlin didn't need the gift of Sight to tell him that. Though it pained him, Merlin couldn't count on Arthur, at least not at the moment. He would have to protect Camelot once again under Arthur's nose. Merlin's throat was hoarse from yelling, his heart was racing, and he had a headache. Merlin unconsciously rubbed Morgana's bracelet around his wrist, the coolness of the metal seemed to cool his entire body. Taking a deep breath, Merlin collected himself. He would figure out what Agravaine was up to; he just needed a little help.

* * *

The great dragon was an enigma to Morgana. She hadn't known that he had been imprisoned in Camelot until after he had escaped. That escape and subsequent attack on Camelot was known far and wide through the Five Kingdoms. For many reasons, they could have been allies. But instead, Kilgharrah hated her, and a centuries old dragon was not an enemy Morgana wanted.

He had many chances to speak with her. He could have sought her out at any point, but he chose now, he chose Avalon. Morgana could do nothing but face him. He was on her Isle now and she tried her best to push away her nerves as she descended the tower to meet him.

Her nerves seem to naturally settle once she reached the bottom floor and saw the small crowd that had gathered around the dragon. It seemed as if Kilgarrah had some old friends on the Isle as well.

The conversation stopped and the crowd dispersed when Morgana approached, and while Kilgharrah turned to face her, he spoke not a word to acknowledge her presence.

If he was expecting her to start the conversation, he would be waiting for a while. She had no desire to talk to the dragon.

But he made no indication to speak and so Morgana offered a "Welcome to Avalon."

At that, the dragon chuckled. It was a deep, rumbling noise, shaking the ground beneath them.

Morgana bit her tongue. If he wasn't a dragon she would have snapped at him, asking what was so funny and what he wanted.

"What a _kind _welcome, witch," drawled the dragon.

Morgana crossed her arms. "What do you seek from me, dragon?"

"You would be wise to address me properly," the dragon mused. He could see his presence was making Morgana tense, and he would be lying if he said that didn't entertain him. "I am here to talk about your dreams."

"I don't see how my dreams are any of your business." Morgana frowned deeply, wondering how much the dragon knew.

"Your dreams depict one possible future of Albion, but you know that already. The future of Albion affects us all."

"Then you must already know that the future of Albion does not rest in my hands. Perhaps you should be talking to Merlin instead."

"Perhaps you should," the dragon countered simply.

"You've got to be joking. Camelot has nothing to do with me anymore."

"What did I suggest?"

"What?"

"What did I just suggest to you, witch?"

She hated his tone. "That I should talk to Merlin."

"Does Merlin have nothing to do with you anymore?" The Great Dragon's eyes twinkled, and Morgana suddenly felt overly self-conscious, wondering if he had also seen the future where she was wed to the sorcerer.

"Merlin can take care of himself. He's Emrys after all." She was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince the dragon.

"If that is how you feel then you have not changed as much as you may like to believe."

She had enough of Kilgharrah's attitude. "And what do you know about me?" She couldn't believe the audacity of this dragon. He had come to her home to do nothing more than criticize her. "Don't lecture me about caring for Camelot when you left the kingdom in flames."

"Don't lecture me about my actions when you've lived but a day of my life, suffered but a second of injustice yet lashed out a million times more than I, witch." His tone was amused, which did nothing but anger Morgana more.

"We'll just have to agree to disagree," she answered stonily. "Is there anything else you needed?"

Kilgharrah stretched his wings. Young people these days were so easily ruffled.

"Let me tell you a story, Morgana." Perhaps he'd try a little harder to make her less uncomfortable. She had a ways to go before she would gain his trust, and quite frankly, he had no intention of ever _befriending_ her. But she possessed great magic that had only grown in the past few years. If she was willing to use it for the right reasons, if she was willing to use it to help Merlin, then Kilgharrah supposed he could, at the very least, try to be nicer.

Morgana said nothing, her arms still crossed defensively, but she raised an eyebrow. If the dragon wanted to talk, she supposed she was willing to listen.

"There were a lot of us once, and not so long ago. No, it was not so long ago that dragons roamed freely through the Five Kingdoms." Kilgharrah had a faraway look on his face and Morgana tried to imagine what that would have been like. "Well, you know what happened to all the dragons. Our great line ended within a few years. Not even our ancient race could survive the viciousness of Uther's persecution. I've been alive for centuries, witch. The eradication of my race happened in but a second in my time, but when it was happening, it seemed to go on forever." He paused then, his eyes averting to the ground and he raised an eyebrow. "Even now, I wake up and expect to see my brethren, my brothers, and it takes me a minute to remind myself that they're gone."

And for the first time, Morgana saw how old the dragon truly looked. The deep wrinkles on his face, the sagging skin of his eyelids, the healed-over battle wounds.

"But the death of my brothers wasn't enough for Uther. When that was done, when I was the only one left, he would not let me die. His ego was so great that he would rather keep me locked up underneath his castle, as a pet, as a reminder of his so-called power, than rid himself of a danger to his kingdom." Kilgharrah's eyes were filled with fury at the memory. "Now, that was over twenty years ago. I may have torched Camelot, but it's recovered and I'll still never see my brothers again. I never got justice for the crimes Uther committed, but you can get justice, young witch." There was no venom laced on the last word anymore. "But you must stand up for what's right. You must do good."

Morgana understood perfectly. Like Alator, like countless others, Kilgharrah was one of many who had been irreversibly marred by the Purge. No amount of lashing out or retaliation would ever rectify the horrible actions of the past. Perhaps it was necessary to strike back in the beginning. There was a rush and a hope that wounding Camelot would bring justice to the deaths of the persecuted, not to mention, there was nowhere better to direct all that animosity and hatred. But in the end, good engenders good, and that was the only way to achieve justice.

"And how am I supposed to know what that is?" That was also what scared Morgana. She intended to be good, to do good, but those lines sometimes blurred. How was she supposed to understand what the right thing to do was, especially when it involved picking a side or making a sacrifice?

Kilgharrah was nothing if not perceptive though. "We all intend to do good, as often as we can, but we don't always understand what good is. Even I have given advice with the best of intentions, only to later understand that it caused more harm than good." Kilgharrah looked Morgana dead in the eye. "A young warlock friend of ours understands that better than most. He follows his heart. He believes in good, and so he does the right thing, the noble thing, even if it goes against my advice."

Morgana wasn't sure if Kilgharrah was apologizing to her for advising Merlin to abandon her. She didn't know what Kilgharrah knew. She didn't know what Kilgharrah thought she knew. She would take it as an apology though, as she was sure that she'd never get a real one out of the dragon.

"So I should go to Merlin?" She wasn't sure why she was seeking the dragon's advice now.

Kilgharrah grinned wickedly. "I think you can do better than that. You've got all your new little... pixie and fay friends now, don't you? I daresay Camelot's enemies aren't expecting to face magic."

"You're suggesting I take Arthur's side in a war?" Morgana looked at Kilgharrah incredulously. "Even if I wanted to, even if they wanted to, I doubt Arthur would accept our help."

"Arthur faces enemies stronger than he can face alone. He is not meant to die in this ridiculous war, by the hand of one who is already dead."

"Who is he?"

"That, I am not sure of. Even my gift of foresight gives me but glimpses of the many possible futures."

"I cannot ask those on this isle to support Arthur's war. They came to Avalon for safety from conflict, safety from Camelot."

"That's right, Kilgharrah. Don't involve us in the fickle wars of humans." And Morgana turned around to find a group of Sidhe suspended in flight behind her.

"Cimmeran. Long time." Kilgharrah acknowledge the new voice lazily. "Shame you weren't banished to the human world. You've always had a difficult time understanding the importance of the actions of humans." He grinned wickedly at the Sidhe.

Cimmeran rolled his eyes at the infinitely larger creature. "You'd miss me too much, old dragon." He wasn't going to let Kilgharrah get a rise out of him.

They two were well acquainted. They weren't friends per say, but centuries together had bonded them. If nothing more, they were at the very least estranged brothers— not always friendly with each other or seeing eye-to-eye on issues, but brothers nonetheless. They shared not the same blood, but the same ancient magic, which in many ways was the strongest of bonds.

Kilgharrah ignored Cimmeran's last statement. The Sidhe were set in their ways, and Cimmeran liked nothing more than taking the opposing side of Kilgharrah. After all, how could the great and mighty Sidhe ever listen to the words of a dragon? Even after all these centuries, even though Kilgharrah was the last dragon, it would always be a competition with the Sidhe. Who was wiser, whose decisions were better? Kilgharrah would leave Morgana to do the convincing. And with that, he focused his attention back to sorceress. "Like I've said, interesting company, your new friends." He couldn't stop himself from taking one more jab at the Sidhe. "It seems like some of your fay friends have been out of the human world for far too long. I'm sure whatever services the Sidhe could have offered could be easily replaced with pixie dust and the magic of a few good sprites." He threw another toothy grin at Cimmeran. "I trust you'll do the right thing."Kilgharrah looked at Morgana first, and then behind her to the Sidhe. It was a message meant for both of them.

The dragon had said all he needed to say. He had a baby dragon to raise and wanted to fly over Camelot to check on the kingdom before night came. "Goodbye, witc—" He caught himself and corrected his sentence. "Goodbye." He nodded at Cimmeran and the rest of the Sidhe, bidding them goodbye as well. It was such an odd sight for the dragon to gaze upon— the witch taking up residence on the Isle of the Blessed with the help of the Sidhe. It was a future that never had a fighting chance of actually coming to pass, and here he was, living it. As the dragon prepared to lift off, he chuckled once more in their direction. "Morgana le Fay, who would've thought." Kilgharrah's laugh came out almost like a cackle, and if the expression on his face wasn't one of such genuine glee and kindness, Morgana would have taken offense to his new name for her.

"Morgana le Fay." She rolled the words off her tongue, trying them out. Not the daughter of Gorlois and not a cursed Pendragon, but Morgana of the faeries.

She liked it.

**A/N: ****Thanks for reading! Leave me a review and let me know what you thought! :) **


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Catching a flight so going to make this short! A million apologies for the lateness! **

**A billion thanks to Mike3207, Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, watchfuldreamer, Sabine8195, Rya3SaberVltar, Renaissancebooklover108, Gbean, icarusLSU, Kianix, LadyDunla, phhsdj, Darkangel665, sjritts, nochance, Narutoske, BlackFeath, Booklover0608, 4 mergana, TN Sarah, Penas e Pergaminhos, meee18 (x 4 :)), guest (Thanks! And I hah, I did miss your long reviews!), and Black Alnair.**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. **

Arthur's heart sank once when Merlin was nowhere to be found in the morning. Gaius had given some lame excuse about how Merlin was off gathering "integral herbs for the battle ahead."The physician assured Arthur that Merlin would meet him at the battle. "Don't think too much of it, Sire. I haven't known Merlin to leave you side at times like these," he offered with a reassuring smile.

Arthur's heart sank again when Annis refused his request to call of the battle.

"Queen Annis, I seek an audience." He had sought out Caerleon's camp as soon as his party made it to the Ridge.

He was greeted by the Queen's guards, and when Arthur motioned for the knights who had escorted him to retreat, Annis' men let the prince enter her tent.

"Your Highness, I'm here to—"

But Annis slapped him hard across the face before Arthur could finish his sentence.

Arthur took the hit in stride. "Your Highness, I know that you feel nothing but contempt for me. You feel I've done you a grievous wrong, and you would be right." When he saw that she was listening and not planning to slap him again, he continued. "I'm ashamed of what I did. It was cowardly, it was unjust, and I am deeply sorry."

Annis had no interest in talking to the boy-king who seemed to run Camelot. "Sorry does not bring back my husband. Sorry does not give my people back their king." Her voice was cold, emotionless.

"I realize that. I know there's nothing I can do to repair that loss."

"Then what are you doing here, Arthur Pendragon?"

"I want to call off the fight."

"It's a little too late for that."

"I don't propose a truce, but an alternative. I invoke the right of single combat. Two champions to settle this matter between them."

"And why should I grant you this favor?"

"There's been bloodshed enough already, Your Highness. Many hundreds of lives will be saved this way."

There was truth in his words, but more than anything, Arthur's suggestion angered Annis even more. "You speak of saving lives, yet you are the one who had declared war on us. There will be bloodshed yet, Arthur Pendragon. You speak of peace now when you need it but disregard it when it doesn't suit you."

Annis wanted what was best for her people, but she knew they were willing to fight to avenge the unjust death of their king. A battle between champions was grossly insufficient. She had lost something at the hands of a Pendragon, and she would not rest until he was dead. She would not allow Arthur to hide behind a champion. The prince was young, perhaps that was what made him foolish, but he had to take responsibility for his actions. "Get out of my presence. This is my only favor to you. Leave my sight before I think better and have you killed right here."

And if that weren't enough, his heart took the final plunge when he saw none other than Gwen pass through the tent doors.

He had but a second to glance upon her face, before he was pushed out by Annis' guards. Arthur was swept by a rush of bliss that was all too temporary. Gwen was serving Annis now. He didn't know if he was angry that she was behind enemy lines or concerned for her safety.

He knew she saw him though. Gwen had dropped the bread she had been carrying, the basket hitting the floor as she moved her hand to cover her mouth. She picked it up quickly, and thankfully none of the loaves had fallen out. The entire exchange happened in but seconds, and it would have been okay if only Arthur and Gwen had noticed, but Annis had seen the two meet eyes. Suddenly, the queen was very curious about the helpful young serving girl.

* * *

The gift of foresight often felt more like a curse than a blessing. The problem with seeing a possible future was, that instead of adapting to the present, people projected their thoughts far ahead, wasting time being anxious over a possibility instead of focusing on what was right before them.

But the gift of foresight was just that, a gift. Morgana understood that now. She had seen a possible future. Regardless if it would come to pass or not, regardless if it were positive or negative, it was blessing to have that information. It enabled her to help Merlin. She wouldn't worry about if she was supposed to tell Merlin or not. She wouldn't question if the Goddess wanted her to help prevent Camelot from suffering such a cruel demise. She wouldn't agonize over if helping Arthur meant betraying her people.

She would stop over thinking and just do what she believed was right.

But while she had decided she would tell Merlin of her vision, Morgana had no intention of involving anyone on Avalon with it. She knew she needed to go to Merlin, but she was sure she couldn't live with herself if any of her friends were harmed though fighting a war that had nothing to do with them.

At the very least, Morgana knew she had to warn Merlin of the future she had foreseen. But one didn't just stroll into Camelot. She supposed it would have been easier if she just wanted to sneak in and wreak havoc, but it was much more difficult to make it to Merlin without harming those who would seek to stop her along the way.

She did not ponder too long over how she would reach Merlin. Alator was yet again at her side, advising her of her other options.

"You can speak to him in his dreams," Alator advised the sorceress when he heard she was considering a journey into Camelot. "It should not be too difficult, and it is much safer than trying to find him among Camelot's knights."

It was a good idea, but part of Morgana just wanted to _see _Merlin again. "Surely I can find Merlin. I'll disguise myself as a serving girl."

"Morgana," Alator sighed. His young ward was more than capable of taking care of herself, and he trusted her to make her own decisions, but it seemed like whenever it came to Emrys, she went away from reason. "Let me rephrase this. Over my dead body will I allow you to sneak into Camelot. They may be more diligent than ever about stopping any faces they haven't seen before, after everything that has happened. It's a waste of magic trying to keep up a disguise." He folded his arms, blocking the door out of her room to make a point.

It was hard to argue with Alator. Sure, he made a reasonable argument, but more than that, she appreciated that he never stopped looking out for her. Especially now that Avalon had all been fully restored, most of her new friends looked to her as a leader. She was the last known Priestess in the Five Kingdoms, a conduit to the Triple Goddess. The Sidhe were different, still friendly enough, but kept a distance, preferring to stick with their own and ignoring her actions unless they would be affected. Alator cared for her and let her make her own choices, but he was willing to put his foot down, willing to forbid her from entering into dangerous situations. It didn't matter that she a Priestess, it didn't matter that she had magic at all. He was and always would be her guardian in every sense of the word.

So it was decided. She would find Merlin in his dreams and try to warn him of the dangers that faced Camelot.

"It's a simple process," Alator reassured Morgana. "Magic calls to magic, and it'll be easy to locate him since he has your bracelet."

Morgana ran her hair through her long, dark locks. Of course she should have known that Alator noticed she left her bracelet with Merlin. "Well, no point in waiting." She glanced out the window. The sun had already set. She then turned to her orb, and gazed upon the sleeping form of Merlin.

"Lie down," Alator instructed Morgana, and she walked to a small sofa in the room.

It was all a bit disconcerting for Morgana. As she lay flat on her back, Alator started setting up a ring of candles around her, igniting them all with a silent spell once the circle had been completed. It was Alator, but he was still a Catha, and Morgana fidgeted on the sofa, the scene reminding her too much of Alator's trademark interrogation process. "Relax," he chided, "Close your eyes."

And she did. She trusted Alator, and she trusted he would lead her to Merlin. As soon as Morgana closed her eyes she heard the low chanting of Alator's voice. "Ræsbora híe þæt heo onslæpe…"

That was all she heard before she felt herself being pulled away. It wasn't so much an out of body experience as she had imagined. If anything, it felt like teleportation. One moment she was on the sofa in Avalon, and all of the sudden, she was somewhere else.

Her new surroundings were incredibly bright, and she raised her hand to shield herself from the light. The brightness was temporary though, and seconds later, the glow faded, revealing Merlin sitting by a lake. And to her surprise it was her lake, Lake Avalon.

Morgana shouldn't have been surprised though. Her purpose had been to find Merlin and warn him, but she didn't think she would reach him so fast. It shouldn't have been awkward, but she still felt weird about approaching him and talking to him, even in a dream.

She took small, tentative strides towards him, and when he didn't seem to notice her approach, she took a deep breath and her steps became purposeful and steady.

"Merlin?" She touched his shoulder when she reached him. He was staring deeply into the lake, mesmerized and unaware of her presence.

He looked up to her when he felt her hand. "Morgana? What are you doing here?" The words came out surprisingly calm.

"Listen, Merlin. I know this may sound… strange, but I'm here to warn you about a grave danger that is coming for Camelot. I had a vision where Camelot had been invaded. Agravaine and someone named Tristan were there. Their forces overpowered the Knights of Camelot. It was awful, Merlin. All the knights were dead, Gaius too, and Arthur had been mortally wounded by the man named Tristan." She barely took a breath, needing to get her message out without Merlin interrupting. "I don't know how they got in or where they got an army." She paused, trying to recall the details of her dream. "The invading knights bore the crest of a wolf's head. I can't fathom how Agravaine found an army, but if you don't stop him, Camelot will be destroyed."

Merlin barely reacted. Instead, he ran his hand through his hair, chuckling to himself.

"What's so funny?" Morgana was taken aback. "Well?" she demanded, when Merlin didn't answer.

"Go away, Morgana, this isn't fair."

"What?" Morgana was getting more confused by the minute.

"This is my dream, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but I'm telling you something important, Merlin. What's wrong with you?" Merlin's reaction was so odd that Morgana didn't really know what to say or how to react.

"Sorry, Morgana, but this is just too funny. I mean, even _Morgana Pendragon_ is warning me about Agravaine, but Arthur still won't listen to reason." Merlin chuckled again. "Tell me, Morgana, what is my subconscious trying to tell me? That even you, you who wanted to destroy Camelot can accept Agravaine's treachery but Arthur can't? Or does this just mean I miss you that much?" He was serious then and reached out as if wanting to touch her. He then seemed to think better of it, and retracted his hand. "I miss you more than you know."

Morgana turned scarlet then. What was Merlin saying? "I'm being serious, Merlin. It's up to you to warn Arthur. I've done my part." She turned from him, not sure where she would go, but not wanting him to see her crimson cheeks.

"Wait, Morgana, don't go." Merlin stood up from his seat by the lake. "This is my dream, isn't it? And I want you to stay."

Morgana rolled her eyes. When did Merlin get so petulant? And then it hit her. He thought she was created from his imagination. He didn't understand that she had penetrated his dream. Morgana groaned internally, wishing she had said something earlier. She supposed it was perfectly rational of him to believe that he had imagined her in his dream. At least, it was more rational than to guess that she had magically stepped into it.

And then something else hit her. He thought he imagined her in his dream. He missed her. He wanted her to stay. Her lips couldn't help themselves from curling up in a shy smile then.

She would have liked for him to believe that she was just a figment of his imagination, but she needed him to understand her vision was the future she had foreseen. Morgana needed him to understand the harsh reality of the situation.

"Merlin, listen. I'm not a part of your normal dream. Alator cast a spell so I could speak to you, to warn you. I know you think you're imagining me, but this is the real me. I couldn't exactly risk breaking into Camelot again, but I needed to speak to you."

That got his attention, and his face turned white. The words instantly sunk into Merlin's brain, and he wasn't sure if he was more concerned that Morgana was able to sneak into his dreams, that she had foreseen Arthur's death and Camelot's invasion, or that he had just told her how much he missed her.

He was flustered, but he tried his best to cover it. "Why are you telling me this?" His voice had lost all the warmth from before, and she could tell he seemed slightly suspicious.

She knew it wasn't the right reaction, but it was her default reaction whenever she felt uneasy. "Well, you're Emrys, aren't you? Destined to protect Albion and Arthur and all that. I just thought you'd like to know," she snapped back.

"We both know whose side I'm on. What I don't know is whose side you are on. One minute you're standing up for druids and servants, the next you're destroying Camelot. And then you go and save Uther and defend villages from lamias. But then you go and help Agravaine kidnap Gaius. How am I supposed to trust you?" Merlin was so frustrated. The flickers of trust had long been ignited within him, but it seemed like every single time he came one step closer to understanding her, she threw him thought a loop.

"I don't know, _Emrys_. The sides may be clear to you, but they're not to me. I'm just trying to help my people."

"Your people?" Merlin's voice was low but resounded with disbelief. "Weren't we your people? The people of Camelot are as much your people as anyone with magic. Why don't you care about Camelot anymore? Why can't you just come home?" At the end of the day, that was all he wanted. How was he supposed to help her, to make up for all the lost time between them if she insisted on staying away?

"The people of Camelot would never accept me the way I am."

"You haven't even given them the chance."

"And why would they choose to accept me?"

"Because you were the Lady Morgana first. Whatever happened after that, they knew and loved you first."

"Forget it, Merlin. This isn't even important. This wasn't why I came."

"Yes it is." Merlin wouldn't drop the topic. "You're important."

"To who? To Uther? To Arthur? I might matter a bit to them, but I'm not high on their list of people they care about."

"TO ME, MORGANA," Merlin bellowed. How many times would she make him admit she mattered so much to him before it sunk in? "So forget about Uther and Arthur. You spend so much time thinking about them and being angry at them that you don't see there are other people in Camelot who care about you.

Morgana winced at Merlin's sudden outburst. "I do, Merlin. I hear you. I see you. That's why I'm here, telling you, warning you about what's going to happen to Camelot. I want to help you."

To a great extent, he appreciated her words. He appreciated that she was really here. Her good intentions caused his heart to swell, but who did she think she was, leaving him unconscious, disappearing for _months _with no word, and then coming back into his life, through his dreams, with such drastic information? And part of him still blamed himself too greatly for what had happened to her. Part of him felt like he didn't deserve her help. But the burning question in his mind was figuring out what he meant to her. He couldn't deal with seeing her intermittently, not knowing what she wanted or what she thought. Was she on his side? It sounded like she was, but he didn't know for sure. How was he supposed to forgive her or forgive himself fully when he had no idea what was running through her mind?

"You see me as what? Merlin the servant? Emrys the sorcerer? A friend? An enemy? Explain it to me, Morgana, because with the way you act, I have no idea." All his frustrations and fears and uncertainties boiled over. "You can't just …swoop in and out of my life!"

It was a good question. Morgana missed awkward, bumbling Merlin, secretly bringing her bunches of wildflowers and arranging them in a large vase in her room without a word. She missed casual, caring Merlin, who'd bring her sleeping draughts and end up staying for conversation. She was in awe of the Merlin who had magic, who was powerful and secretly leading Arthur to all his victories. But what did she see Merlin as? She struggled to find the right words.

Morgana was sick of all their conversations being so fraught with emotion, but their relationship was _that _complicated. "You…" Morgana's voice trailed off.

Merlin sighed. He was sure she wouldn't have an answer that would satisfy him. They had reached a sort of neutral ground in their relationship, but he wasn't sure if they would ever be able to progress further from there.

But she surprised him with his answer. "You are light to me," she answered simply, definitively, honestly.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry this wasn't longer, but I ran out of time. **

**I'll be traveling on holiday for the next two weeks, and then its senior week at my university, so it might be a while till the next update, but I promise I will not abandon this story and will brainstorm on my 16 hour flight. :)**

**Merlin and Arthur are off to war next chapter! How does Gwen figure into this? How is Arthur going to find out about Agravaine's treachery? Is Morgana going to convince her new friends to help them? Drop me a review and let me know what you thought!**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: I am back! With a longer chapter this time! **

**Thanks to 4 mergana, Bredhlaf Swelgend (Thanks! I'm glad you got that reference hehe), MonsterJunkie (Don't worry, they'll be thrown together from here on out), Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714 (Thanks for all your kind words!), Gbean (Thanks! Maybe you'll get your wish this chapter :)), TN Sarah, phhsdj, LadyDunla, Narutoske, Renaissancebooklover108 (Agreed completely!), Penas e Pergaminhos, no chance, BlueMoonMaples, Guest, chronos the cookie thief (Thanks! Excalibur will figure into the plot soon. Probably no Mordred since this is the Season 4 plotline, but maybe in a sequel or something. No magical swords, but other magical artifacts will appear), Rya3SaberVltar, icarusLSU, Kianix, BlackFeath, Sabine8195, hornet22 (Thanks! Your review made me smile haha), guest (Gosh, I wish I had a better name to call you lol. Thanks so much! I'm glad you appreciate all those little references!), meee18 (Thanks! Thank goodness for Netflix for I can rewatch all the Merlin episodes lol), Slices (Here you go lol!)**

**Disclaimer: Merlin still belongs to the lovely people over at Shine and BBC. **

Agravaine should have listened when the Dochraid warned him of the dangers of bringing back Tristan. But Agravaine didn't understand enough about magic to heed her words, though even if he did, his singular goal of reuniting with his older brother would have made him deaf to any consequences anyway.

He never thought Tristan's hatred and desire for vengeance would become a problem, but as the months passed, the man before him became less and less like the brother he grew up with.

The longer Tristan was in the world of the living, the more he felt the pull of the spirit world calling him back. He would not go, not until he had accomplished what he could not in his natural life. But the call was strong, and the only way to fight it was to focus on his hate for the Pendragons.

In and of itself, hate was a strong emotion, but paired with the magic that coursed through his veins, Tristan's hate became venom, a poison that corroded his mind.

He became short-tempered and ferocious, snapping even at King Odin.

"How many men has he left at Camelot? Has he taken all of the Knights? Where is Uther?" Odin interrogated Blaine when the young boy came to bring the latest news of Camelot.

"Will you kindly _shut up,_" Tristan snarled at the king. "None of that is important."

"You will take care to address me with respect." Odin would not be undermined in front of his men. "It is _my _army who we are sending to Camelot. I will have a full understanding of the situation before I give them the order to march." Odin glared at the younger man before addressing Blaine again. "Now, where was I? Do you know of any secret tunnels out of Camelot? And—"

And as Odin was continuing his barrage of questions, the king saw Blaine crumple to the ground, a small dagger sticking out of his chest.

"As you can see, the boy is unable to answer any of your questions. Now, stop wasting your time and start preparing your army." Tristan walked to Blaine's body casually, stepping on the dead boy's stomach as he pulled out his dagger. "And have this cleaned and returned to me." Tristan threw the bloody blade to Odin's feet before exiting the throne room.

Odin sat speechlessly on his throne, wondering what sort of monster he had welcomed into his castle. It wasn't until he felt the eyes of his guards on him that he snapped himself out of his shock. "Well, you heard the man," Odin growled. "You." He pointed to one guard, "get this dagger cleaned, and get that boy out of here. The rest of you go and alert the troops to be ready to march." Odin kept his voice low and even, not wanting his men to see his shock, but as soon as they left, Odin slumped back into his throne, staring at the small pool of blood in the center of his room. _He loved that boy. _Odin recalled Tristan pulling out some small coins for Blaine whenever he came to deliver messages. _He looked out for that boy. _Odin had been annoyed that Tristan always sent Blaine to the castle kitchens before sending him back to Camelot. _He's just a boy. A serving boy. I can't have him eating chicken and pastries while my own servants eat nothing but bread and corn. _Odin had nagged Tristan about his indulgence of Blaine, but Tristan waved off the king's words.

And now Tristan had killed the boy, and for what? He had done nothing wrong.

Odin found himself wanting this to all be over, and not so that he would have exacted his revenge on Arthur, but so that Tristan would be gone from his life.

The king was all too happy when an hour later, Tristan reappeared, clean dagger in its holster, and announced that he would not march with them.

"I will meet Arthur at the Ridge of Landshire and rejoin you at Camelot afterward."

"Well—"

"Silence." Tristan's voice boomed through the empty room, and Odin was all too aware of the dark stain that remained on the floor to be enraged at Tristan's insolence. "Agravaine has arranged a route into the castle from the east gates. You should have no trouble taking Camelot. Arthur has not left nearly enough men to stop your troops." Tristan paused there, a dark grin forming on his lips. "Besides, your men have been trained by me."

Odin nodded, not wanting to interrupt Tristan, and the older de Bois continued to explain the details of Odin's invasion to the king.

"I don't care what you do to Camelot. I don't care what you take, but you will leave Uther for me."

The look on Tristan's face was so feral and so severe that Odin could do nothing but continue nodding.

* * *

There wasn't much that could render Merlin speechless anymore, but in that moment, he did not know what to say in response to Morgana.

She was his light when he first reached Camelot. In those early days, he was convinced Arthur would never be the once and future king. Merlin's initial impression of the prince left him with little faith in the future of Camelot. He thought Arthur was more than just foolish. The prince was pigheaded and self-absorbed and ignorant. Arthur was not someone Merlin was willing to lay down his life for, but Morgana was a different story. Her physical loveliness could not be compared to the beauty of her heart. She was open-hearted and considerate. She treated him not as a servant, but as a human, a friend, and even berated Arthur for the prince's abuse of Merlin.

The rest of the nobles, from the king to the lowest of the lords, treated him like he was invisible, unless he had the misfortune of making a mistake, which then resulted in scowls or an afternoon in the stocks. Even the servants were not kind to Merlin, half of them jealous that a newcomer had suddenly been appointed the coveted position of the prince's manservant, and the other half avoided him like the plague, afraid that he was Arthur's personal spy.

Truth be told, he couldn't bring himself to be angry at Morgana anymore. He couldn't bring himself to feel anything but warmth for her. It wasn't that Merlin didn't hold Morgana accountable for her awful actions. He was still not sure how to accept the damage she had inflicted on Camelot. But just as she saw light in him, he had seen light in her and hadn't protected it, when he was the only one who could have. It was that knowledge that extinguished any lingering confusion or doubt he had towards the sorceress.

"Merlin," Morgana's voice anchored him again. "I feel as though I'm fading." And indeed, it seemed as if Morgana was slowly losing color, turning more and more transparent each second. "Listen to me. Stay with Arthur. Don't let him out of your sight. You're meant to save him."

"And what about you? Will you help me?"

But before Merlin had the chance to hear her answer, Morgana had disappeared, leaving him alone in his dream staring at the peaceful Lake of Avalon and wondering where Morgana really was and when he'd see her again.

When the spell ended, Morgana was jerked back to Avalon. "Alator," she greeted the concerned face that was staring at her. She launched herself up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging her mentor. "That was brilliant." A second later, she let the surprised Catha out of her embrace. "I must ask for your help again."

There was no longer concern or surprise on Alator's face. His eyes twinkled and his mouth twitched upwards to the smallest of smiles. "What can I do?"

Morgana had a plan. Sort of. She didn't know when her vision would come to pass, but her gut told her was not far in the future. She first had to stop the battle between Annis and Arthur. Arthur would not have a fighting chance against the invasion of Camelot if half his men were dead from a previous battle. Morgana wasn't thrilled about opposing the Queen of Caerleon. When she was a child, Gorlois had taken Morgana to meet the Queen on more than one occasion, and Morgana had been left with a positive lasting impression of Annis. The news of Arthur's murder of the King of Caerleon had reached every kingdom and Morgana found herself once again thinking that Arthur was too much like Uther. _It would be better to leave Arthur alone. He deserves the wrath of Annis. An eye for an eye. _But then she thought of Merlin, and decided that even though it might have been better to leave Arthur to whatever fate awaited him, it was not right. He was still her family, and he was Merlin's family too, and his decision, however stupid and damaging, did not mean he deserved to be abandoned.

That had always been Morgana's weakness. Her love for her family had deep roots in her heart. She couldn't let Uther die and she wouldn't let Arthur die either.

What she needed now was the help of the Sidhe though, and she was not looking forward to requesting their assistance.

* * *

"Come here." Annis had sent for Gwen an hour after Arthur had left her tent. The queen dismissed the guards in the tent and beckoned Gwen to come closer. Annis extended her arm, grabbing Gwen's face gently and examining the younger girl. "Pretty," she concluded simply. "Beautiful enough to catch the heart of a prince, I'd wager." It was a question as much as it was a statement, and Annis stared hard at Gwen, as if daring the serving girl to disagree, to pretend that she didn't know Arthur.

"Not enough to keep it." Gwen met Annis' stare, the look in her eyes defiant, as if daring Annis to try and use her against Arthur. But the tone of her voice was both soft and sincere.

"Tell me, what did you see in him?" Annis had no intention of using Gwen against Arthur, despite whatever feelings the prince may have for the girl. Those tactics were so beneath Annis she had never even considered them. She was more interested in trying to understand Arthur. For months she had heard that the prince was a blessing upon Camelot, perhaps a bit softer and more naïve, but fairer than his father.

"Why does it matter to you?"

Annis motioned Gwen to sit down across from her. "He made me a proposal. He wanted to avoid battle in favor of single-combat. The terms were not unfair. If my champion won, Caerleon would absorb half of Camelot's lands."

"And if he won?" Gwen couldn't help but be curious.

"I would call off the war."

"Oh my queen, you must accept his terms." Gwen responded with a burst of passion.

"And why is that?" Annis looked amused.

"It is what's best for your people. If you go to war you will see your people die. If you take his offer and win, you'll have expanded your kingdom far faster than any other ruler in the Kingdoms. If you lose, you'll have put up an honorable fight and have protected the lives of your people." Gwen did not want to see Arthur or the knights hurt, but she had gotten to know many of the citizens of Caerleon, and did not wish to see them come to harm either.

"You forget, child, that your prince killed my husband, my king. If I invoke single-combat, Arthur will not pay for his actions. He will stand on the sidelines while our champions battle. He will never understand the consequences of his choices."

"I do not claim to understand all of Prince Arthur's choices," Gwen stated carefully, "for I have been under your kind service for a great many months. But the Arthur I knew…" Gwen trailed out. "Well, if you invoke your right to single-combat, Arthur will not send any of his men to the field. He will face your champion himself."

Annis leaned back into her chair and analyzed the serving girl before her. "You would have Arthur meet my champion in single-combat?"

"I would have Arthur stay in Camelot, safe behind castle walls." Gwen answered honestly. "But my Arthur does not have a coward heart. You may not see it, but he is kind and honorable, and will do right by his people. He would do right by you, if only you gave him a chance. He—" Gwen stopped herself there, feeling as though she had said too much already and wondering how Annis would react.

"Tell me more about your Arthur." Annis should have been spending her time addressing her army, reviewing their strategy, but she wanted to know how the kind-hearted serving girl saw the prince of Camelot.

Gwen blushed at Annis' request, not realizing she had called Arthur hers. She wondered warily as to why Annis was so curious, but Gwen could not help but trust the Queen of Caerleon. Besides, none of Gwen's memories of Arthur could hurt the prince, and perhaps they would help convince Annis of Arthur's good heart. "Where do I start?"

Annis spent a good few hours listening to Gwen tell stories of Arthur, of how he had rescued her from Hengist, of how he reinstated the round table, of how he traveled to Cendred's kingdom on behalf of his serving boy.

The queen could see that Gwen was speaking from the heart. But if Arthur was indeed so great and they were in love, why was Gwen here and not in Camelot with him? There was no polite way of asking such a thing, so Annis just posed the question outright.

"I betrayed his trust, his love for me. It was I who was in the wrong and he showed me nothing but courtesy and clemency."

Annis raised an eyebrow at that.

"There were some who would have seen me executed for my transgressions. At the time, banishment seemed a fate worse than death, but I cherish each and every day I have, even if it's away from him," Gwen explained.

"Thank you for your company, Gwen." Annis answered finally. "It seems as though it is time for dinner, and I suspect you may be hungry." Gwen's stomach had started to growl unabashedly during the last half-hour.

"The pleasure was all mine, my lady." Gwen stood up from her seat, curtsied deeply, and retreated from Annis' tent, feeling less anxious about the war between the two kingdoms.

After Gwen left, Annis ate her supper alone, pondering the words of the serving girl. When the last course had been cleared, she asked one of her guards to bring in Derian. "Inform the men, we will not be going to war tomorrow."

Derian was one of her oldest and most skilled warriors. He had trained and maintained Caerleon's army when the king was away, and she knew she could not ask for a finer champion. She was sure that he would agree that single-combat was the best course of action, and he would be honored to her choice.

Annis felt a weight lifted from her shoulders now that she had decided she would agree to single-combat. The queen wasn't completely confident that she would be able to win a war against Arthur, but she needed the prince to pay. Of course, she would make sure the prince knew she would only agree to single-combat if he was his own champion.

At the same time, Annis wasn't sure if Derian was the best choice. She had complete faith in his skills, but Arthur was younger, maybe faster, and had been personally trained by Uther. Annis had no interest in sending one of her finest men to his death.

Out of the corner of her eye Annis saw the flap of the tent door move, and turned to greet Derian.

It was not Derian who stood before her though, but a stranger clad in black, his face covered by a silver helm. As the flap fell back into place Annis could see the vague outline of her two guards listless on the ground.

"Who are you?" Annis stood, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword. "Lay down your arms."

"A friend." The figure walked closer to her.

"Sir Knight, I must disagree, based on the state of which you've left my guards. Uncover your face and state your name and purpose," Annis commanded in her most queenly voice.

The stranger acquiesced, tossing his sheathed sword to the side and slowly pulling his helmet off his face. "Tristan de Bois, at your service, my Annis." He bowed deeply, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips. "Your men are fine, just taking a little nap," he grinned slyly.

A weaker woman would have fainted, but not Annis. She gripped his hand, pulling him even closer to her. She could not believe he was real otherwise.

"Tristan…" She didn't know where to start. Annis had too many questions for him. "You've not aged a day since I last saw you. Where have you been all these years? What are you doing here?"

Decades ago, when Annis had been but a girl, Tristan had been a brother to her. She had just married Caerleon and they had been invited to Camelot for Ygraine and Uther's engagement ceremony. The young queen of Caerleon had become fast friends with the future queen of Camelot. Annis was barely 20, Ygraine was only 18 and the two girls had much in common. Annis had no siblings and Ygraine was quick to share hers. It was Tristan who taught her how to assert herself as queen. "You have every right to lead your kingdom. He may have married you for your beauty, but you'll show him he gained so much more." He always visited her when he was in Caerleon, and she never made a visit to Ygraine without making sure she saw Tristan as well. And then, one day, all of a sudden, news of Ygraine's death reached Annis. She had made plans to travel to Camelot, to see what help she could offer, but just days later, news of Tristan's death came before she could leave. There was never a reason for their deaths. The most information she was ever able to get was that Ygraine was killed by sorcery and Tristan had died from grief. But here he was, gallant and alive.

Tristan led the dazed queen to a couch, pulling a thin blanket over her knees and sitting down beside her, all the while still holding her hand. "Where do I start, Annis?" He sighed, trying to focus himself on the memories of the past. They all seemed shrouded, and his brain was screaming at him, telling Tristan that the past was unimportant, that all he needed to do was to find Arthur and kill the prince. Still, Tristan persevered, pushing those darker thoughts to the back of his mind. "I am dead. I died over twenty years ago."

At those words, Annis withdrew her hand from Tristan, looking at him in disbelief. "How?" she whispered.

"I was killed at the hands of Uther Pendragon." Tristan explained how he discovered that Uther had bargained Ygraine's life for Arthur's birth. "He cared not for my sister, he only wanted an heir." Tristan told Annis of how he had challenged the king when he found out, and how he had been bested. "I vowed revenge, and now I will have it."

Annis felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she willed them away. She had always known Uther to be a ruthless man, but believed his love of Ygraine to be real. She could barely believe that Uther was the cause of Ygraine's death, or that he had the heart to murder Tristan in cold blood. Annis was also worried about how Agravaine had brought Tristan back to life, especially when Tristan made his request.

"Absolutely not." Annis shook her head furiously. "You cannot be my champion. I have already decided that Derian will fight in my name."

"And he will die in your name," Tristan answered dryly. "Caerleon is better than Camelot in many ways, but you and I both know that no one has fighters like Camelot."

"It is not your battle, despite how you feel. This is about avenging Caerleon's death. This is my fight. I will not have you fighting for me and I certainly will not have you injured on my behalf."

"My lady, may I borrow your dagger?"

Annis handed over the small jeweled dagger she kept on her belt loop. "What are you going to do?"

And to the queen's horror, Tristan plunged the dagger deep into his heart, pulling the dagger from the left side of his chest to the right. The dull blade pierced his skin with some difficulty, slicing his chest in a jagged and uneven line. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Annis quickly moved her hand over his wound in an effort to stop the bleeding, but he pushed her hands away.

"Just wait," he chided, pulling the dagger out and handing it back to the flabbergasted queen.

And true to his words, in a few minutes Tristan's wound had closed up.

"Is this part of the magic Agravaine worked?" Annis ran her hand across Tristan's chest, fingering the torn fabric, the only evidence that Tristan had a gashing wound only moment before.

"Yes." Tristan smiled at the worried look on Annis' face. She had grown so much older, but she still looked the same to him. Lately, Tristan wasn't sure if he still had a heart, but looking at the passionate and compassionate queen of Caerleon made him feel something other than hatred for once. "This is why you will let me be your champion."

"You cannot die?"

Tristan thought of Agravaine and the necklace, safe in Camelot. "The only person who will die tomorrow is Arthur."

Tristan had come with the intentions of blending into Annis' army, to make sure that Arthur died by his hand and his hand alone, but when he snuck into the camp, he heard the soldiers speaking about how there would be no battle tomorrow, that Annis was invoking single-combat. It was the perfect chance he could not pass up. But he had not anticipated how seeing Annis would make him feel. He almost wanted to give up on his quest. Talking to Annis made Tristan want to take the queen back to Caerleon, serve as her champion for the rest of his days and send for Agravaine to join them. After all, Uther was all but dead, and Arthur's only real sin was having Uther's blood running in his veins. Would Ygraine have wanted her brother to kill her son? That was a question Tristan never asked himself but one that had suddenly popped into his mind.

"Then I would be honored for you to fight in Caerleon's name." Annis considered the situation carefully.

They were both too far in to pull out now, Tristan realized. Annis would never retreat to Caerleon until she had sought retribution, and he would never be able to rest easy until Camelot and the Pendragons became a pile of ashes.

* * *

Merlin had woken from his dream in the middle of the night. He roused Gaius, hurriedly whispered his plan to the drowsy physician and slipped out of Camelot in the night. There was something he had to do on his own before setting out to war with Arthur. However, Merlin was already in Arthur's tent when the prince returned from his talk with Annis.

Merlin was ready to offer some sort of explanation for his lateness when he saw Arthur walk through the tent, but one look at the prince's weary face had Merlin shut his mouth and drew up a chair for his friend.

"What is it?" Merlin questioned after Arthur had sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Gwen's here." Arthur sighed. "And Annis wouldn't accept my proposal for single combat."

The two old friends chatted in hushed tones as Arthur vented his frustrations and fears and Merlin did his best to comfort the troubled prince. Arthur had promised himself that he would not involve anyone in his problems. It was his duty as Camelot's leader to bear the burden and the responsibilities the kingdom faced. But it wasn't just anyone, it was Merlin that was waiting for him in his tent, and Arthur had spilled all his feelings to the serving boy. It wasn't because Arthur was weak and unable to handle the problems he now faced alone, it was because he knew Merlin was strong, as strong as Camelot's best knight, and would bring a perspective to the situation that no one else could. He valued Merlin's opinions, and if their conversation could inspire Arthur to think of another way to protect his people and protect Gwen from mass bloodshed, then he would bare his soul to his servant.

Beyond the sounds of their quiet talk, the only other noise was that of swords clanging from the knights who were practicing outside the tent. By the time night fell, the entire camp was silent, and Merlin was readying Arthur for bed. But before Merlin had a chance to pull off Arthur's boots, the sound of voices outside and the faint light of torches captured the two friends' attention.

"Sire." Leon burst through Arthur's tent, forgetting to knock or bow. "Come quick." And with no further explanation, Leon slipped out the way he came in a rush.

Merlin and Arthur exchanged a glance before propelling themselves out the tent as well.

They had barely taken ten steps before they saw a wounded Elyan, who was being supported by Percival and Gwaine, walking toward them.

When Elyan saw Arthur, he pushed himself off Gwaine and Percival and faced his prince. "Sire, Camelot's been taken. I… I…. I—" Elyan was stumbling over his words, having too much to say but not knowing how to say it.

"Slow down, Elyan, what happened?" Arthur motioned for the knights to come and support the wounded man again.

"Odin and his army stormed the castle. He had too many men and surprised us from the east gates. We were outnumbered. He made it to the heart of the castle within ten minutes." Elyan stopped to catch his breath. "Whatever men he hasn't slaughtered are probably in the dungeons."

"Damn it." Arthur gritted his teeth, trying his hardest not to lash out physically. "How did this happen?" He looked at the small group of men that had come with Elyan. "Is this everyone who made it out?" Arthur scanned the small band of men that accompanied Elyan. "Where is my father? Where is my uncle?"

"As soon as we were alerted there were intruders I had Gaius take your father and hide him. I asked him to take the king out of Camelot through the underground tunnels if necessary." An uncomfortable silence then filled the air as Elyan struggled to find the best words to use for the next part of his tale. "Sire…Agravaine is the one that let Odin's men though the castle gates. I saw him march alongside Odin."

"No." Arthur's voice was firm. "My uncle would not help Odin willingly."

"He slaughtered our people. I watched as he led Odin to your throne. He was the one who gave me this injury." Elyan gestured to the deep gash that ran down the right side of his chest. Elyan looked at Arthur earnestly, hoping the prince would believe him.

"I believe you. Thank you, Elyan." Arthur dared not meet Merlin's eyes, though he could feel his friend's intense look burning a hole through the back of his head. How many times had Merlin warned him about Agravaine? Arthur had rebuffed Merlin each and every time, and yet again his people were going to pay for his decision. "Get him treated." Arthur looked at Gwaine and Perceival. "Make sure everyone who has been wounded is treated."

A quiet desperation started to creep its way into Arthur's mind. The young prince knew he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He was at war with two great kingdoms, fighting on two fronts with not nearly enough men or a strategy for saving his home.

Yet again, too many things were happening for Arthur to wrap his head around. He could not be at the Ridge and at Camelot all at once. Arthur could not think quickly enough or act quickly enough to do what needed to be done. He had no idea how he was going to lead his people out of this, but he had to pretend that he did, because everyone was looking to him take charge, to save them.

**A/N: Poor Arthur, what's a prince to do? What's the deal with Annis and Tristan? What's Morgana planning? **

**Till next week! R&R**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Happy Mother's Day :) **

**Late again (it's like a bad habit now, sigh) but I'll probably won't be back on schedule until after graduation. **

**Much love to everyone that reads, reviews, faves, and follows this fic. It still amazes whenever I get new follows! Super thanks to Rya3SaberVltar, LadyDunla, chronos the cookie thief, Renaissancebooklover108, Mike3207, icarusLSU, Kianix, 4 mergana, BlackFeath, TN Sarah, sjritts, Narutoske, Fangirl17, Phhsdj, hotnet22, pureangel88, Reader's Delight, nochance, and squaredplanet.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. **

Arthur didn't make Merlin's job easy, but the young warlock never held it against the prince. Even now, all Merlin could think about was how he was going to fix the situation. Never mind that war with Annis and Odin could have been prevented if Arthur had just listened to Merlin, had just trusted Merlin instead of Agravaine.

The prince was worried he would have not enough troops to fight the war, but Merlin knew better. What they lacked in numbers, Merlin could make up with magic. And if having the greatest sorcerer known to man wasn't enough, Merlin was ready to call upon the Great Dragon for help if need be.

He had no qualms about using his magic for Arthur's benefit. After all, it was his _destiny_. But this time was different. He was willing to kill for Arthur. He had killed for Arthur in the past, but usually the sides were clear. He had defended Arthur because he _had_ to. But Merlin did not want to hurt Annis' men. Sure, King Caerleon had been in the wrong too, but trespassing and reconnaissance on Camelot's lands did not warrant an execution. Arthur made a bad choice, and now Merlin was left with no choice but to defend it. Merlin wouldn't get angry about how Arthur had yelled and dismissed him every time he spoke out against Agravaine. Merlin wouldn't get upset about how his only reward for being by Arthur's side during everything was just more chores. He wouldn't get angry at Arthur, at least not now, because he knew it wouldn't help, but the tiniest bit of resentment still took residence in Merlin's heart.

Not that Arthur noticed. He spent the entire night talking strategy with Leon and the other knights, and when Merlin tried to convince the prince to get a little bit of sleep before the next morning, Arthur snapped. "How can I sleep when my people are in danger? Just leave me be, Merlin."

And at that, Merlin skulked off, having had enough of Arthur's high and mighty attitude.

_As if I don't understand that. _Merlin wished Gaius was here to talk him down from his anger. The thought of Gaius then made Merlin more angry and worried. He was here, doing nothing, when Gaius was wounded or dead or hiding. He knew Gaius would have told him to stay with the prince anyway, but it didn't make Merlin feel better at all.

He stopped near one of the many campfires outside, tucking himself under his coarse blanket and nodding goodnight to the soldier next to him. If not for Morgana's bracelet, Merlin was sure he would have never fallen asleep; the jumble of emotions within him making his heart beat furiously. As he rubbed his gift around his wrist, Merlin grimaced at the fact that the last time he had consciously thought about the bracelet, he had felt that the future would bring good things, that the age where magic would no longer be outlawed was soon to come. Now, he was just reminded of Morgana, and wondered if this was how she felt at Camelot— angry, worried, torn, alone. For all his power, Merlin could do nothing but drift to sleep and hope that the next day would be a little better.

It was still a tense relationship between the two friends the next morning, and not even the news that Annis had changed her mind about single combat relieved all of the strain.

Neither Merlin nor Arthur thought much of Annis' sudden change in decision. They both had too much of their mind with Agravaine's betrayal. When Annis sent Derian with her proclamation that she would accept trial by combat, they both felt a weight lift off their shoulders, only to be reminded of the dire situation Camelot was still in.

"Queen Annis has reconsidered your request." The tall, imposing giant of a man announced. "But before she accepts, tell me, who would be your champion?"

At that, Sir Leon cut in. "You must give the prince time to consider who his champion will be."

But Arthur didn't miss a beat. "There can only be one choice. One choice which is just and honorable. This fight's mine."

Derian nodded. His queen would be happy with that answer, though he wondered how she could have predicted the prince's answer.

"Will Annis accept these terms?" Arthur asked tentatively when the man didn't respond.

"Yes." Derian nodded slowly, eyeing the prince. Arthur did not seem like such a superior warrior, and again Derian wondered why his Queen chose a stranger to be her champion instead of him. "Her champion will meet you at noon." With that, the giant retreated from Arthur's tent.

"Well, if that's what Annis' messengers look like, I sure don't want to see what her champion looks like." Arthur broke the stifling silence in the room.

"My prince, do you really think this is worth the risk?"

"Sire, you cannot take this trial."

"Sire, this must be a trick."

The knights all started to protest, but Arthur held up his hand to silence them.

"This is the right decision," he assured his friends.

There was still worry in the eyes of the knights, but they could not object to their prince, nor could they deny that this was the only way they would have a fighting chance at reclaiming Camelot.

* * *

In the end, no one at all thought too much of Annis' choice of champion. Her men were a bit confused at first, but they trusted the judgment of their queen. Everyone wondered how the fight would play out, but only Annis and Tristan knew of Tristan's advantage.

Not even Merlin was that worried. If Arthur had a sword, Merlin was sure the prince would succeed. That wasn't to say that he wasn't planning to step in should Arthur be in mortal danger, but Merlin was more concerned about the problem back in Camelot.

Arthur could tell that Merlin was upset. Merlin had not said a word when he brought Arthur breakfast the next morning. He cleared the table just as quietly, and when Arthur tried to engage his usually excitable manservant in conversation, Merlin brushed him off. "Preparations for the other knights, my lord…" Merlin flatly stated. Arthur had thought Merlin was just worried about the battle, but it was clear to him now that Merlin was mad at him.

The prince had come to accept that Agravaine had betrayed him, but it was something he was not yet ready to talk about, to analyze. So instead of feeling apologetic, Arthur felt indignant at Merlin's attitude. Maybe he should have listened to Merlin's warning about Agravaine, but Merlin had only ever made baseless accusations, and Agravaine was his uncle. It was unfathomable to think that Agravaine was capable of this. Besides, none of the other knights had caught wind of his uncle's treachery. Arthur had a lapse in judgment, but he was going to fix it, and Merlin's cold attitude wasn't going to change what had happened.

When it was almost noon, Merlin returned to ready the prince for combat. Arthur was somber, but Merlin could tell that the prince was feeling more spirited that he had last night. The two men shared a quick look, and they both knew that Arthur would be victorious.

Both armies approached the designated meeting spot, the no-man's-land at the Ridge. Camelot's army stood on high ground while Annis' men were on the plains.

Arthur met Annis' champion at the bottom of the ridge. He was expecting someone a bit more intimidating, but the man who met him looked like any other knight.

They eyed each other, but not a word was spoken between the two men, and within seconds, the sounds of clanging swords filled the air.

It was Sir Ector who first noticed Tristan as something other than Annis' champion. He was one of the older knights who still rode with the group, having served with Uther since the king's early days in Camelot. A dark frown crossed the veteran warrior's face and he walked closer to the edge of the ridge to look upon the two champions. "What a face…couldn't possibly be….Tristan de Bois." Merlin barely caught the knight's soft murmurings.

The last part of his comment captured Merlin's attention though, and the sorcerer edged closer to Ector. "I'm sorry Sir Ector, what was it you were saying?"

Ector glanced at Arthur's serving boy. "Oh…what? It's nothing."

"Please, sir." Merlin looked at Ector earnestly.

"Well…it's just that Caerleon's champion bears an uncanny resemblance to a knight I knew a long time ago. Couldn't be though, the man I remember died decades ago."

"What was his name?"

Ector looked hard at Merlin, wondering why the boy was so curious and if he should tell Arthur's manservant. "Sir Tristan de Bois. One of the finest knights of Camelot, though it seems his family's honor was lost upon Agravaine. I couldn't possibly be right though. We're too far away to see clearly."

Feeling sick to his stomach at Sir Ector's words, Merlin turned back to the fight at hand, wondering if Annis' champion was indeed Tristan.

Arthur had struck first, attacking with all his might. The prince planned to start off strong and never let up. And indeed, Arthur's skill with a sword was not to be overlooked, as his opponent could do nothing but parry and duck Arthur's onslaught of attacks.

But Tristan too was an expert with a sword, and months of training Odin's men had kept his skills sharp. He patiently blocked each and every one of Arthur's attack until he saw his opening. Ducking Arthur's latest attack, Tristan took one step closer to Arthur's side and elbowed the prince. The momentum of Arthur's missed attack paired with Tristan's blow, knocked Arthur of his balance, and the prince stumbled to the right. Taking advantage of the moment, Tristan swiped his sword across, cutting Arthur's forearm. The prince had regained his bearings just in time to take a step backward and avoid the brunt of the injury.

The fight continued for what felt like hours, with Arthur doing most of the attacking and Tristan biding his time to attack only when Arthur opened himself up. Arthur was left with various shallow wounds across his arms and probably a few good bruises, while Tristan was nothing more than a little dusty.

"You fight like your father." Tristan couldn't resist commenting. "But brute strength will only get you so far."

Arthur was far from ready to give up. "We'll see about that." And again their swords met in the air.

With renewed strength, Arthur launched himself at Tristan, and this time, when he swung his sword horizontally and Tristan ducked, the prince quickly changed the trajectory of his weapon, circling it down and around quickly, slicing Tristan's thigh.

It was a small victory, but Arthur felt as though it was the first step to winning the fight. Unfortunately for the prince, the sight of his own blood seemed to drive Tristan into a fury.

The calm with which Tristan approached the fight was now thrown to the wind. Anger, and the same brute strength he had just criticized Arthur for, now fueled his attacks, and Arthur could do little but defend himself against the vigorous assault. Whether it was magic, adrenaline, or skill, Tristan soon found himself gaining the upper hand. With one well placed blow, the undead champion knocked Arthur's sword to the ground. Arthur knelt, ducking Tristan's strike and grabbing for his sword. Tristan was quicker though, and stepped on the prince's sword before Arthur could pick it up again.

Seeing victory at hand, Tristan pointed his sword at Arthur's chest. "Regretting your decision for single combat?" he taunted. "You will now die for your sins."

Arthur looked at his opponent. "You fought better than I today, and I have no regrets about my choice, for it has protected the lives of hundreds of good men."

In that moment, Tristan froze. Part of his mind wanted nothing more than to run Arthur though again and again until the prince was nothing but a bloody mess. He had no use for Arthur's magnanimous last words. But the other part of him heard Ygraine's voice, his sister's kindness and bravery, in what Arthur was saying.

All it took was that one second of hesitation and before Tristan knew what was happening, he found himself being pulled forward. Arthur had gripped Tristan's blade, and ignoring the pain he felt as the sharp edges cut his hand, he moved the blade slightly to the left and pulled, drawing more blood from his own hand but unbalancing Tristan. As Tristan stumbled forward, Arthur's sword was freed, and the prince took his chance. Arthur knocked Tristan sharply on the back, sending Annis' champion falling to the ground, the side of his head hitting a sharp rock. The tables had turned and Arthur pointed his sword at Tristan's chest. Arthur pulled his sword back, taking aim, and thrust it forward again. Instead of running Tristan through though, the sword struck the ground next to Tristan's head.

A collective breath of relief could almost be heard from the top of the ridge and Arthur's men soon started cheering.

Thankful for his victory, Arthur pulled his sword out of the ground and was walking back to his men when he felt a sharp sting from behind. Without glancing at the source, Arthur whipped his sword around, blindly slicing at whatever had attacked him. To his horror, Arthur's sword smote Tristan so hard on the neck that it had severed his opponent's head clean off his body. Arthur had not meant to kill the man, only to defend himself from further injury, as Tristan had surreptitiously attacked Arthur from behind, stabbing through the prince's middle.

Strangely enough, the body of Annis' champion did not fall, but instead, to Arthur increasing horror, walked to where the head lay. The hands of the headless trunk picked up the head and set it back upon the body.

Arthur was too stunned to react, and Tristan wasted no time in striking the prince again, this time cutting Arthur's side. _He is not your family. _Tristan reminded himself of the reason why he was here. _Ygraine had to die so that he could live. _Tristan would admit the boy was a fine warrior, but the world had lost a treasure when his sister died, and her son was nowhere near deserving of her sacrifice.

The fight had already taken most of Arthur's energy, and the prince's wounds were far more extensive than those of Tristan's. Calling upon the last of his strength, Arthur sluggishly brought his sword to meet Tristan's new attacks. He had not the strength to attack though, and Tristan overpowered him with little effort. More and more fresh wounds found themselves on Arthur's body. For the umpteenth time, Tristan knocked the prince's sword away, and Arthur found himself helpless against Tristan's attack. Tristan raised his sword high over his head, ready to deliver the final blow, but he suddenly felt his weapon grow heavy in his hands. Instead of striking down at the prince, Tristan found himself teetering backward due to the weight of his sword. By the time Tristan has mustered enough strength to adjust to the strange new weight, Arthur had readied himself, avoiding Tristan's attack. Arthur rolled and ducked and tried to use his fists now that that his sword was too far to reach. It was a desperate defense and they both knew it.

* * *

The rules of single combat were simple. Two champions would meet at neutral ground and fight until there was a clear winner. This usually meant a fight to the death. Interference from any outside soldier either resulted in the death of that solider, or a full-on battle between the two opposing armies.

Arthur had clearly won fair and square and Gwen had seen enough. She knew she wasn't supposed to be on the battlefield to begin with, but when she heard Arthur was fighting, there was no way she could stay away. She had disguised herself as a foot soldier, staying near the back of the army, but she slowly made her way to the front lines when they stopped marching.

It didn't even matter to her if Arthur won or lost. His opponent was fighting dirty and no one was doing anything about it, not even his own men. Gwen didn't know if Arthur still loved her, but she still loved him, as a man and as a king. She would save him for Camelot and for herself.

So as the rest of the men on the battleground were fixated on the battle in the center, Gwen had broken from Annis' army and was running toward the two champions.

Gwen didn't understand what the terms of single combat entailed, but she was sure she was breaking one rule or another. But Gwen had nothing to lose and everything to gain. To her, as long as Arthur lived, she didn't care what the consequences were. She was already parentless, poor, and exiled.

No one had noticed, not even the soldiers that she had elbowed to get away from the line. When one of Annis' men did call out to her, it was too late, as the next few moments unfolded in mere seconds.

"Stop."Annis' voice rang out clearly as she saw the serving girl shed her heavy disguise and run to the fight. Her command meant nothing to Gwen though, and none of her men ran after the serving girl for fear of breaking of the rules of single combat.

Gwen reached the champions' fight quickly, as the no-man's-land was not far and she had always been a fast runner. She meant to put up a fight, for though she was no warrior, she was a blacksmith's daughter, and that meant something.

Tristan was too far gone in his blind rage. Without so much as a blink, he smote Gwen with his sword as he saw the girl approach, meaning to cut her down. To his surprise, his blade seemed to have instantly dulled, not sharp enough to cut or wound anyone anymore. But the force he exerted in his attack was more than enough to knock Gwen off her feet. She hit the ground with a thud, cursing herself for being so useless, and managing to mouth an "I'm sorry" to Arthur before passing out.

Tristan barely registered Gwen's presence, kicking her hard to get her out of the way before turning back to his original prey. Disposing of the girl had taken less than a minute, but any minute away from inflicting pain onto Arthur Pendragon was a minute wasted. Looking at his dull blade with confusion and annoyance, Tristan threw the useless weapon to the side. He had no use for a tool that wouldn't cut. Besides, his bare hands would be enough to end Arthur.

The deranged knight pounded Arthur brutally with his fists, the prince trying to put up a defense, trying to fight back, but failing under the overwhelming power of his attacker.

Annis did not have the stomach for the sight before her. She had no problem with torturing traitors for information, no problem with the brutal nature of battles and wars, but she saw Tristan unraveling before her. Arthur may have deserved death, but the Tristan she knew would never strike a maiden. They had already won, already avenged Caerleon, and there was no need to prolong the prince's suffering. She wouldn't have cared if Tristan had just killed Arthur outright, for that was an honorable way to die, but this was just barbaric and cruel.

"Tristan," she barked, hoping to gain the knight's attention. "It's over. We have won. You can stop." She was concerned about her friend, but Annis was always highly aware of the fact that single combat could sometimes initiate a battle rather than prevent it. She could see Arthur's men balling their fists and gripping their swords tensely, their discipline the only thing stopping them from rushing to their prince's aid.

Tristan paused for a minute, turning his head towards the queen while still holding Arthur by the collar. Annis let out a sigh of relief, happy that he had not lost all control.

Her reaction was too premature though, and when Annis met his eyes, the Tristan she knew, the Tristan she had just talked to the night before, was no longer there. There was nothing but darkness in his cold, empty eyes.

It was a look that chilled Annis to the bone. But Tristan had long ago taught her to be brave, to be the queen she was, and even now she would not back down. She strode with purpose towards the fight, holding up her hand to let her men know now to follow. She would pull Tristan away from the prince of Camelot, pull him back to his senses.

In hindsight, she should have realized that was a foolish idea, but she thought her words, no, she thought their relationship was strong enough. But Tristan was truly gone, and while Annis approached the situation with calm and courage, she soon found herself on her back, with Tristan's hands around her neck.

"You would be wise not to interfere, woman." Tristan tightened his grip on her neck, as Annis clawed at him to stop.

Before fear and panic could set in, Annis found Tristan's hands being released from her neck. Looking up, she saw the wounded Prince Arthur bearing down on Tristan's back, pulling him away from the Queen.

Annis reached for the sword, ready to step in again, to fix this mess of a fight. It was not necessary though, as both her men and Arthur's men had swept in from their original positions. They had seen too much. It had long since stopped being a duel between two champions, and the two armies were not going to sit idly by as their rulers were in danger.

Arthur breathed a sigh a relief. He was heavy with fatigue and his wounds were making it hard for him to move. But at the same time, this was the exact thing he was trying to avoid. Arthur could do nothing but try to lift himself up as his men engaged Caerleon's soldiers in battle. For every enemy soldier that fell, Arthur caught sight of a crimson cape crumpled on the ground.

As he brought himself up to his feet again, Arthur felt a shadow fall over the plains, as though the clouds had suddenly moved in front of the sun. Glancing up, the prince almost stumbled over in shock when he saw Morgana, approaching from the skies, on the back of a giant white bird.

* * *

From his readings of Gaius' extensive books, Merlin subconsciously identified the bird as a boobrie. It was pure white except for the crimson highlights on its wings and its thick, black beak. For the most part, it looked like an oversized heron, but it was easily larger than two dozen of the largest eagles and had a much larger and sharper hooked beak.

Even during her dark days in the wretched hut, Morgana was still accustomed to wearing dresses. This time though, she had opted to slip into a chainmail shirt and small leather vest with a centipede of buttons that ran down her back. Morgana's raven locks were twisted into a tight knot atop her head and she wore high boots that were laced up to her knee. Today, she was a warrior.

As she overlooked the battle below her, Morgana took a deep breath, wondering if what she was going to do next was just going to make Arthur hate magic more and persecute those with magic more fiercely.

Looking behind her, Morgana saw a large blue cloud approach.

"On my mark," she commanded to the Sidhe behind her, and from her belt, she pulled out a gnarled wooden staff with a blue sapphire embedded in the top. "Now."

Each member of the Sidhe army behind her raised their staffs too and a thick mist descended upon the human army below. Not only did the mists make it impossible for the two armies to see anything in front of them, but the dense fog so completely blanketed them to the point where it was hard to even move anymore.

Surveying the grounds below, for Morgana could see through the mist, the priestess saw that there were still a few who were fighting against the vapor, their will and strength too great to be stopped or bewildered by such a trick. Among them was Tristan, who seemed to be ripping his way through the mist, walking towards Arthur. Morgana raised her staff again, striking Tristan with a bolt of lightning as the undead knight made to attack the prince.

Merlin was equally unaffected by the fog, and he had finally made his way, with just a tiny bit of difficulty, to the prince, pulling on Arthur to step further away from the charred area where Tristan was. The ground had been burnt to a dead black from Morgana's attack, but the knight himself remained standing.

Merlin tugged at the dazed prince, who, though barely standing, had taken up his sword again, unsure of where to point it. "Let's go, Arthur. It's too dangerous here."

"Merlin? Is that you?" Arthur could see absolutely nothing.

"Yes. Now, let's go." Merlin's voice was more urgent now.

"What's going on, Merlin? What is this fog? Where's Morgana?" Arthur squinted, hoping that would help clear his vision. "Where's Annis? Where's her champion? Did you see what happened?" Arthur had a billion questions. "I can barely hear you. Speak up."

"Now is not the time." Merlin yelled, his voice barely reaching Arthur through the enchanted fog.

"I can't move." Arthur tried to lift one foot with no luck. "But I'm not leaving until I know my men are safe, and that Annis and Gwen are okay. Why is it so quiet?"

They didn't have time for a conversation. Unbeknownst to Arthur, Tristan was slowly making his way toward the prince again.

Thankfully, Morgana descended, the boobrie hovered unhappily just a foot above the battlefield. The gleam of Arthur's sword angered the bird, who didn't take kindly to the weapons of men, and with the great roar of a bull, he screeched in Arthur's face. Though the sound his roar was absorbed by the magical mists, the sheer force behind the noise caused Arthur to drop to his knees.

Merlin scowled at the creature as the warlock tried to pick Arthur up again. Before Merlin had a chance to help Arthur up, the boobrie swooped down, and Morgana grabbed Merlin by the collar. With surprising strength and perhaps a bit of magic, she pulled the warlock on the back of the bird. Merlin was about to protest, but he had the wind knocked out of him as the boobrie picked up the prince in one claw and ascended into the air.

"Wait," Merlin hissed, "We have to take Annis and Gwen."

Morgana shot him a dirty look. "Why is that?"

"Because they were injured by that thing Annis sent. He's made of dark magic. Who knows if their injuries can be treated with normal medicine? Besides, the battle can't continue if Annis and Arthur are gone."

"He hit them, Merlin, they'll be fine." Morgana didn't have time to transport everyone Arthur and Merlin were worried about. "Besides, the battle can't continue if the soldiers can't move."

"And how long is your magic going to last once we've escaped?"

Touché.

Merlin felt sick as the boobrie descended again, expertly picking up Queen Annis in his other claw and Gwen in his beak.

Once again, they ascended into the air, above the mist, this time flying away from the Ridge. The giant bird was not happy with the number of passengers he was carrying. Though he was a large creature, he was not accustomed to passengers, especially passengers that weren't food, and he was not pleased by the frenzy of activity they had just escaped from.

"Where are you taking them?" One of the Sidhe buzzed alongside Morgana, whispering into her ear.

"To safety." Morgana wasn't sure where to bring them. She thought she would just put the armies to sleep and then leave Merlin with a pouch of pixie dust to wake Camelot's army only. She was not planning on bringing anyone with her, not planning on seeing that malicious spirit on the battlefield. She just knew she had to get them as far away from the mysterious knight as possible. She thought with dry amusement that the Sidhe would probably strike her with lightning if she suggested they be brought to Avalon, but Arthur, Annis and Gwen needed medical treatment quickly. Anywhere else within the borders of Camelot was no longer safe.

In the end, the decision was made by the tired boobrie. He was sick of his heavy passengers, and didn't like the sticky feeling in his claw, no doubt blood from Arthur's many wounds. He descended quickly when he saw his home, and as soon as they landed, he dropped his passengers to the ground. The boobrie snapped his sharp beak at Arthur, letting the prince know how easily he could devour him. With a quick dip of his head to Morgana, the boobrie transformed into the fluid figure of a water horse and galloped into the Lake of Avalon.

Dizzily surveying the sight before him, Merlin couldn't help but feel increasingly worried instead of relieved. He had left two armies with an angry undead knight back at the Ridge, and had three wounded, barely conscious people sprawled out on the ground before him. Looking up in the sky, Merlin saw the cloud of Sidhe approach, and the warlock felt his stomach drop even more.

But Merlin felt Morgana's hand steal into his and give him a small, reassuring squeeze, as if to say that she had the situation under control. Merlin hoped that was true, for as much as he needed her help, he was wary of the Sidhe's powers, having crossed paths with the old faeries before. But the feel of Morgana's hand in his reassured him more than he thought possible. She carried herself with the assured intensity of a commander, and he knew that she would not fail them.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Interesting fact of the day, the boobrie is an actual mythical bird from Scottish folklore! **

**The gang's finally reunited, but things are still a mess, and might get worse before they get better (where's excalibur when you need it, hmph). What's going to happen when the fog dissipates at the Ridge? What did Morgana have to trade to get the Sidhe's help? Will Arthur ever stop being such a huge prat to Merlin? Till next chapter! R&R **


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I'm back, graduated, secured a new apartment, and ready for weekly updates again!**

**Thanks so much to everyone that reviewed! LadyDunla, Kianix, TN Sarah, sjrtts, chronos the cookie thief, 4mergana, phhsdj, Mike3207, zarifa2013, Narutoske, Guest (Thanks so much! I'm glad I was able to do the characters justice), nochance, Renaissancebooklover108, Sabine8195, Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, peace shadow, Acheron94, Guest (Thanks for the recommendations! I LOVE You wait for rain), and Helenmorgause.**

**Disclaimer: Hmmm, maybe I should have studied TV/Film or producing at college instead. Merlin is still not mine!**

When Arthur opened his eyes, he was met by the steely gaze of Queen Annis.

"It seems like it's your victory yet again, young prince." Annis tilted her head toward Arthur when she realized he was awake. The queen was sitting on a comfortable looking sofa while a young boy was changing the bandage on her left arm.

Arthur looked down at himself to examine his own wounds and was surprised to find he had not a scratch on him. There was some sort of poultice on his shoulder blades which had a cooling sensation.

He then looked at Annis and thought of the men they had both left at the Ridge. "There are no winners today," he somberly responded, looking around to regain his bearings.

They locked eyes, and both rulers seemed to finally understand that the problem with an eye for an eye was that it left everyone blind. They had both been in the wrong at one point or another in how they handled the situation, but it seemed not to matter anymore, not when the fate of their soldiers was unknown.

When the boy finished changing the queen's bandage, he slipped out of the room without a word to the prince. Arthur stood up to follow him, to question him, but when the prince tried to exit through the doorway, he found an invisible barrier preventing him from leaving.

"Don't bother, I've tried," Annis preemptively responded when Arthur sent her a questioning look. "Magic."

Arthur groaned. "Where are we? How long have I been unconscious? What do they want with us?"

"Avalon," Annis responded dryly. "You've been resting for about a day and a half. I suppose she had healers treat your wounds before bringing you here to rest." Annis wondered how to answer Arthur's last question, for she had no idea what their captors wanted with them either. "You should ask your last question to your sister."

Morgana. Now that Annis mentioned it, he vaguely recalled seeing Morgana on the battlefield, swooping in on a frightfully large bird. What had she been doing there? Why did she save him? Or did she have something even more sinister planned? And who was the knight Annis sent to fight him? He unconsciously clenched his fists at the thought of his indestructible opponent. Arthur started to ask Annis, but the downcast look she had made him hold his tongue. He had no doubt she regretted her actions on the battlefield, and he didn't want to incite another fight, not when they were finally starting to see eye to eye. He resolved to ask her about it soon though, for he needed to know why her champion seemed to hate him so much and how he was to kill something that feared no blade.

Arthur supposed he was lucky enough. He was imprisoned, but he was being treated well. He and Annis were not chained, were provided clean clothes and proper meals. To be fair, they weren't even in a jail, rather a large, sparsely decorated room. There were two windows, which weren't barred, but were much too small to climb out of. The room contained four beds with thick blankets and plump pillows that were separated by changing screens, and a small tapestry of a golden chalice. All in all, Arthur was living in comfort, except for the fact that he was unable to leave to room.

He almost would have preferred to be treated poorly, for it didn't seem fair that his men were possibly dying at the Ridge while he was safely healed and away from the fighting. He had been awake for only half an hour before restlessness and agitation started nagging at him.

To make things worse, his captors seemed to be afraid of him. The young girl who brought them meals shirked back every time she handed him his tray, never looking at him or acknowledging him. The tiny strange creatures that magically appeared in the night to tidy up the room would all look up at him with large, frightened eyes, and seemed to disappear into thin air whenever he caught sight of them at work. It was the little things like that which pricked his heart. What had he accomplished as the ruler of Camelot? He let his kingdom be taken over by his traitorous uncle and the vile King Odin. He killed King Caerleon and left his men alone to fight his war. Oh, and young girls were now madly afraid of bringing him lunch. With nothing else to do, he fell into these types of thoughts. He had failed as the prince of Camelot, and that knowledge weighed heavily on him. Arthur wished Morgana would visit him, so he could figure out what was happening. He wished he had news of Camelot, of the Ridge, of Merlin. Instead, Arthur was trapped in his room, trapped in his thoughts of his failure.

The only solace he found was when Gwen was brought to his cell. She had been with the healers longer than Annis and Arthur, not because her wounds were worse, but because her body had given out from overwork, stress, and pressure.

"Guinevere." Arthur was so relieved to see her that he scrambled to his feet to embrace her. He had only just stood before he awkwardly stopped himself from approaching her, unsure of how to act around her.

"Hello, Arthur," Gwen greeted him with a sad smile.

In that moment, it occurred to Arthur how stupid he was to ever push her away. He was still mad about her betrayal, but he couldn't deny that he never stopped loving her. He almost lost her at the Ridge, and now that she was here, in front of him, he wouldn't let her go again. Pushing away the angry thoughts in his brain, Arthur followed his first instinct, and he held out his arm, smiling sincerely at Gwen.

Gwen didn't stop to second guess Arthur's gesture. Too long had she gone without seeing him, hearing him, touching him. She had woken up in such a strange place, without a familiar face to comfort her. Gwen rushed forward to his open arms and closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of his fresh cotton shirt and feeling the warmth of his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

From over Arthur's shoulder, her eyes met Annis', and if she weren't so happy to be with Arthur again, she would have felt more apologetic towards the queen. But Annis smiled gently at Gwen, as if to say she didn't mind, that she was glad some good was coming out of this mess, before turning her head back to the window.

* * *

"You must let him go." Merlin slammed his hand on the table. "If Camelot has any chance of surviving, you must let me bring Arthur to get Excalibur." He was trying to convince the crowd around him to let them travel to the Forest of Ascetir, where Merlin had stored the magic blade.

When they arrived at Avalon, Morgana had insisted that Merlin stay with her, taking him with her to the great hall in the main tower. Annis and Gwen were taken to separate rooms, while Morgana and Alator worked on healing the prince. Arthur's wounds were deep and plenty, but Morgana and Alator had seen much worse. When he was no longer in danger of bleeding out from his injuries, Morgana asked on the druids in the room to finish healing Arthur and apply some poultices. Before Merlin could object, the prince was whisked out of the hall.

"We need to talk." Morgana looked at Merlin wearily, trying to remember why she had let herself get caught up in this.

But before they could have a private conversation, a crowd of people poured in through the door. Word had spread quickly that Morgana had brought back Annis and Arthur, drawing the curiously of all, and Merlin suddenly had a mob of people to convince.

Merlin's declaration was met with sympathetic looks by some but reticent looks from others. The druids had instantly recognized him as Emrys and welcomed him with open arms, bowing deeply and offering their support.

When the Sidhe first heard he was Merlin, the manservant of Arthur, they hissed in anger. "Murderer," they accused, for they had not forgotten the Sidhe elder that had departed to silence Merlin but had never returned. When they heard the druids call him Emrys, their fury doubled. They sneered at the fact that the almighty Emrys served under Prince Pendragon. "Humans," they spat, "More trouble than they're worth." They were beyond livid at the fact that Morgana had permitted the prisoners onto the Isle.

Merlin ignored them. "Don't you see? Arthur's the only hope for Camelot, our only hope for unity. He'll return magic to the kingdom." Merlin couldn't understand why the Sidhe would not see reason but hoped the others would.

"Young warlock, whether or not magic is restored to Camelot is of no importance," the Sidhe Cimmeran stated.

That remark was met by angry dissonance from the druids.

Back and forth they argued, some in favor of helping Arthur, others demanding his execution.

"He should pay for what he has done to our people." One young druid protested. More and more of Avalon's residents had sneaked into the great hall, eager to weigh in on the situation.

"But Emrys believes the prince will usher in a new era for the Old Religion," another protested.

"That may be true, but should he not be accountable for his actions?" One of the dwarves in the room piped up.

"We must give him more time to break away from Uther's influence," a short witch insisted.

"We've been living in fear, chased all over the kingdoms for over two decades. We don't have any more time," a somber half-giant retorted.

"We can't just kill the prince," another voice remarked.

"Why not? The prince of Camelot would make a fine sacrifice," one of the Sidhe cackled, his eyes glinting maliciously.

Merlin sighed, there were too many parties involved and they would never come to a consensus of what to do with Arthur. At this rate he would have to break Arthur out of Avalon and gain yet another group of enemies. He looked at Morgana, silently asking her to step in.

But Morgana also didn't know what to say. She was beginning to understand why Avalon was only inhabited by High Priestesses and Priests originally. There were too many differing opinions now, too many different goals, though they were all followers of the Old Religion.

"We're not going to kill the prince," Morgana's voice sharply pierced the conversation. "He is my guest. He is my brother," she reminded both them and herself. She supposed this was the meaning of family, of friendship, mercy, and doing what was right. It was still a foreign feeling to her, but the look of gratefulness and relief on Merlin's face assured her that her words had helped.

Merlin was impressed by the intensity of her voice, the authority of her statement. He was not alone, as the dialogue quieted once she had spoken.

The others contemplated her words. If nothing else, they viewed Morgana as the human mouthpiece of the Triple Goddess. She was the High Priestess of Avalon and her words carried great weight.

"What do you suggest, Alator?" Morgana turned to her old mentor, who had been surprisingly quiet the entire time. She had no doubt he had some wise proposition to offer. Morgana was powerful, she was smart, but when it came to Arthur and Camelot, she didn't trust herself to make the best decisions.

His eyes twinkled, "My lady, now that you ask, may I suggest…."

In the end, as usual, it was Alator who proposed a compromise that all sides were willing to accept. "You may seek Excalibur, but the prince will remain in Avalon," he concluded his thoughts.

The Sidhe rolled their eyes, mumbling something about how dragons shouldn't be allowed to forge magic swords for humans, while the rest of the group seemed to tentatively accept the decision.

Merlin paused, grateful that Arthur would not be treated as a enemy here, but still concerned for the prince's wellbeing. "What do you want with Arthur? Camelot needs him."

"Camelot may now be at war with Odin, but its war against the Old Religion has not been forgotten," Alator responded carefully, looking around at the community of Avalon.

"What does that mean? Do you still mean to punish Arthur for his father's crimes?" Merlin frowned.

"It is not retribution that is needed, but the promise of change for the future. We are tired of fighting, and I'm sure Prince Arthur is as well. But your prince still makes little effort to understand the Old Religion and its followers. It—

"Perhaps it's because he's too busy executing neighboring kings," Cimmeran suggested unnecessarily, still peeved.

If he wasn't a guest in Avalon, Merlin would have cast the Sidhe away, or at least cast a silencing spell on the nasty little creatures. But he held his tongue and addressed only Alator. "You will guarantee his safety then?"

"I will," Alator promised.

"And when I return with Excalibur you will let us go to Camelot?"

"We will not stop you from returning if that's what you mean," Alator responded sternly. He wasn't keen on the idea of helping Arthur back to Camelot, where the vilest of crimes against the magical community had been committed, at least not until he evaluated the prince himself.

It was not what Merlin wanted to hear, but it was good enough for the time being. All he needed was Arthur to be safe while he retrieved Excalibur. In many ways, it was better that the prince remained in Avalon. Merlin was sure that Tristan would be unable to find Arthur here, and it would take Merlin a fraction of the time to bring back Excalibur alone than if he had to journey with Arthur. What he would do after he had Excalibur, well, Merlin would think about it then.

* * *

The Morgana that Merlin knew had been and still was a bleeding heart. It was her greatest attribute and her greatest weakness. Her sympathy and empathy made her a wonderful listener and a wonderful ally, but a fierce and relentless enemy. So he couldn't complain when she quietly stated she would be going with him, but it made him nervous, simply because he wasn't sure how to talk to her. He had said all too much to her already, yet there was still so much he needed to say. But he was eager to get to Excalibur, and it wouldn't hurt to have a high priestess alongside him in case they encountered any obstacles.

It was quickly decided that they would teleport to Excalibur, as the journey on foot would take at least a day if not two.

They brought nothing with them, save for a flask of water each, for the task at hand would not take long. Again, Morgana surreptitiously slipped her hand into Merlin's.

"Well, go ahead then," she looked at him, expecting the sorcerer to cast the teleportation spell. Truthfully, she was rather terrible at teleportation, often ending up miles away from where she meant to go, but she wouldn't admit that to Merlin.

There was also something about Merlin when he was doing magic that entranced Morgana. It was like he was really living when he was casting a spell. She guessed it was because all the emotion and power he hid under his façade as a manservant was bubbling forward, but whatever it was, it was enchanting.

Merlin still puzzled her, partially because she didn't know if Merlin was the boy she knew or Emrys the great. She understood that the mantle of Emrys was something Merlin had to don in order to protect Camelot, and in turn, the mask of Merlin the manservant was something he wore to protect Arthur, but she didn't know which one was the real him. Rather, she didn't know if he could be both Merlin and Emrys.

She wondered if he even knew. She didn't see how the people who loved Merlin could come to accept Emrys. She didn't see how the people who respected Emrys could understand Merlin.

She did want to see the world he saw though— the world he believed could truly accept magic.

They had been transported to the Forest of Ascetir in the time Morgana had been lost in her thoughts. She let go of his hand. "Which way do we go?"

He looked around, unsure of which direction he had stashed Excalibur. "Leoht treo foldweg," Merlin incanted, casting a spell to help guide them to the sword. The trees to their left glowed softly, casting their light on the ground. The trees in that direction soon all lit up and bent inward, illuminating a path and creating a tunnel of trees. Satisfied by his work, he glanced at Morgana. "This way," he pointed, walking towards the glowing path. "Come on, Morgana." Merlin held out his hand, helping her step over a mossy area of the ground.

She was much too old to be dreaming of far-off adventures and great mysteries, but Merlin made her feel like a giddy young girl again. Their contact was no longer an imitation of intimacy, but a sign of their closeness. She took his hand, letting him support her as she followed him through the luminous tree tunnel, into the unknown in their search of the mystical sword.

They walked for but a few minutes when they saw the lighted path end and the trees unfold. "It should be just beyond those trees." Merlin pointed with his other hand.

"Well, let's go then," Morgana responded with a burst of energy. She took the lead, flittering ahead of him and tugging him behind her. She wouldn't lie, she was excited to see Excalibur and she was excited to be on a journey again, away from the stresses and responsibilities.

The two bounded past the thin trees and made their way to a clearing. Morgana skidded to a stop when she saw the sword, glistening in glory, embedded in a large pale stone.

He walked past her, straight up to the sword in the stone and ran his hands along the glistening hilt. Merlin closed his eyes, muttering a quick spell to release the blade. The sword gave off sparks as Merlin pulled it out of the stone, and in a few seconds, Merlin held Excalibur up in all its glory. He turned to Morgana, grinning triumphantly at her.

"It's magnificent," Morgana admired. "May I?" She reached out her hand, wanting to test out the sword.

Merlin didn't hesitate at her request, amused by how excited she was to try Excalibur. He had not forgotten how adept Morgana was with a blade and was sure she would appreciate the workmanship of Excalibur more than he could.

She took the sword from Merlin and swung it lightly through the air. It was light, balanced, and gorgeous. Wondering how strong a blade forged in dragon flame truly was, she struck the stone the sword was previously encased in, and the large rock shattered in half. "Wow," was all she could manage.

As she held the blade up again to admire its geometry, Morgana saw something gleam from the reflection of Excalibur. She barely moved out of the way as an arrow whizzed by her just a second later.

Morgana and Merlin looked toward the direction of the attack.

"Drop it, Morgana," a stern voice commanded from behind a tree. "You're surrounded."

True enough, the shiny tip of an arrow seemed to protrude from behind every other tree around the clearing.

Morgana had never responded well to commands, and she wasn't about to start. "Abife brytengrúnd." The sorceress' eyes glowed dangerously and the ground started to shake, causing a few of her attackers to stumble out from behind the cover of the trees and drop their bows. "Knights," Morgana hissed.

"Gwaine!" Merlin called out, seeing his friend. "Leon, Brennis, Caridoc!" Merlin greeted each knight as they emerged from their hiding places.

"Merlin, step away from her. We'll protect you." Gwaine was glad to see Merlin but was too concerned about the witch to be excited to greet his friend.

The knights walked closer and closer to Morgana and Merlin, some drawing their swords, others still aiming their arrows. Morgana's eyes were angry, and she held Excalibur defensively. She could never escape the constant reminders that she was still at war with Camelot, even though she had abandoned her plans of revenge. "I would not come any closer if I were you," she warned. Morgana was getting slightly worried though, as more and more knights appeared around her.

"It sure seemed like you wanted us to find you. You did leave a trail of lights," Gwaine responded cheekily. "Let Merlin go and tell us where Arthur is and perhaps we'll show mercy."

"Stop it, all of you." Merlin stepped in, placing his hand over Morgana's to make her lower Excalibur. She did not resist, allowing the wizard to take the sword from her. The knights of Camelot did not stop approaching though, weapons still poised to strike. Merlin scowled and stepped in front of Morgana, holding his arms out. "She's helping me, Gwaine. We're all on the same side. Put down your weapons."

"Her? Helping you? She must have you under some sort of enchantment," Gwaine frowned. "Step aside. Once the witch is dead, you'll come back to your senses."

* * *

Arthur didn't know how time could pass by so excruciatingly slow. He had been on the Isle for only a little more than two days, but it felt like years had passed by.

From Morgana's orb in her room, Alator could see the prince pacing inside his cell, brows furrowed and back hunched over in stress. It was time to show his guests Avalon, Alator decided.

He was accompanied by a druid, a dwarf, and an air sprite, a fair enough representation of the Isle, he mused. He had invited Cimmeran to join them, but the Sidhe turned away from the Catha in disdain. "Best to keep the prince as far away from us as possible. We wouldn't want to accidently let slip that the prince's servant is a sorcerer," the Sidhe elder answered bitterly. "The Priestess already owes us a great deal for saving him and parting the mists to let him on the Isle."

"Suit yourself." Alator had no need to hear of the Sidhe's complaints.

He met the trio at the bottom of the stairs that led to the captives' room. "Meli, Flint, Finn," he greeted the sprite, dwarf, and druid.

The four made their way up the stairs, knocking on the door as a courtesy before entering.

"Queen Annis, Prince Arthur, Miss Guinevere," Alator stated, "I am Alator of the Catha, last High Priest of the Old Religion, and these are my friends," he gestured to the rest of his group. "Would you care to join me on a walk around the Isle?"

Queen Annis was the first to get up. "Alator of the Catha. I have heard your name before. I will join you on your walk, but will you tell me how my people are?"

"Aye," he affirmed. "They are fine. I can let you see them later today if you'd like."

Arthur did not move from his seat across the room. "Why have we been kept prisoners in this room? Where is Morgana? I must return to my men."

"The Lady Morgana is otherwise occupied at the moment. You are her guests, not her prisoners, at least for the time being," Alator answered tersely.

"If we are guests, then let us leave. I appreciate the help, but she should have never taken me away from my men."

"I am afraid that is not currently an option," Alator answered simply.

"Listen to me. I am the prince of Camelot, and as I recall, Avalon is located within my kingdom. You will let us return to our people before I charge you with treason." He stood up, trying to claim as much power as he could in the situation.

"You listen here, boy. I don't care if you're the king of the Five Kingdoms. You're not going anywhere until we say you can," Flint, the dwarf gruffly responded, his hand on the mace hanging from his belt.

Gwen quietly made her way to Arthur's side. "Perhaps we should just go with them, see what they have to say." She rested her hand gently on Arthur's back.

"Don't." Arthur spun around to face her. "What happened yesterday was a moment's weakness," he whispered.

Gwen flinched.

"What you did to me... Everything I cherished between us, everything we had, it's gone. That'll never change." He walked away from her and toward the door.

"What is it you want us to see?" He would play along for now, but the minute he saw his chance, he would escape from here and find a way back to his knights.

"Follow me." Alator turned and started back down the stairs.

They all followed his lead, and Arthur was surprised when he found the invisible barrier on the door gone. _One obstacle down, _he thought to himself.

Alator led them out of the tower, and Arthur was surprised at how expansive and well-maintained the island was. He remembered Avalon as a deserted Isle, filled with crumbling gray buildings.

Arthur was intrigued, but a tour of the Isle was not what he needed at the moment. However, Flint's mace continued to remind him that he still had no good opportunity to escape, so the prince tried to pay attention to what Alator was saying.

He conceded that it was a fantastic island. Alator led them to the gardens, pointed out the herbs they grew which were delivered to the mainland. "This is known as the Ram's Horn." Alator pointed to a woody looking plant with umbels of tiny yellow flowers. "Treatment for jaundice, anemia…" Alator trailed off a long list of ailments. "The druids bring these and other herbs to local healers to share.

Their tour continued like this, stopping at each distinct tower and feature of Avalon. They passed by the dwarves' forge. "Almost nothing stronger than a dwarven sword," Flint contributed proudly, confident of his peoples' smithing abilities. And indeed, when the dwarf passed Arthur a shield to examine, the prince was sure he had never seen anything so exquisitely made by the hands of men. They visited the kelpies and merrow by the water, the latter of which brought necklaces of water lilies for the three guests.

Arthur was intrigued but he didn't understand the point. "What is it you want me to see? We've been walking around this isle for over an hour."

"What is it that you see here?" Finn answered his question with a question of his own.

Arthur shook his head, not understanding how to answer that question. "Towers, gardens, creatures, magic…" he trailed off lamely.

"And what do you think?" Finn inquired.

"Of what?"

"Of towers and gardens and creatures and magic of course!" Meli responded enthusiastically.

Arthur sighed. "It's a beautiful island, and I thank you again for healing me. I am sure you all mean well, but magic has been banned for over two decades for a reason. The people of Avalon will meet their end by practicing magic. It's too dangerous."

"Most of us here do not practice magic by choice. We were born with it." Finn frowned. "We are being persecuted for something we cannot change."

Arthur shook his head. He didn't understand how magic worked, how simple words could hold such power. How was he supposed to protect his people with swords and strength against users of spells? How could people be born with this type of power? "Have you tried? Your people are welcome in Camelot. I have lifted the decree. Druids are no longer being hunted."

"We are welcome so long as we hide our magic."

"That is for the safety of my people," Arthur insisted.

"Haven't you learned your lesson from Anhora?" Meli suddenly squeaked angrily.

"Anho—who?" Arthur responded dumbly, not following what the tiny sprite was babbling about.

"Anhora. The keeper of the unicorns! Camelot was lucky only to have its crops destroyed and water turned to sand for but a few days. You proved you were pure of heart then, but you haven't changed Camelot for the better," she accused.

"Wait just a minute. And how do you know about Anhora?" Arthur was now just remembering the Curse of the Unicorn from all those years ago.

"Two words, prince. Air. Sprite," Flint glowered. "They see and hear everything."

Meli flittered in front of Arthur's chest, pressing a hand against his heart. "I think you still have a pure heart. You're headstrong, but all princes seem to be. You were willing to lay down your life for your friends, your people. Can't you try to see that these are your people too?"

Arthur had never thought of it that way. Those who had magic were always considered outsiders, if not enemies._ His_ people didn't have magic._ His_ people needed to be protected from magic. "Magic destroys and corrupts. How can I protect people who willingly practice this evil?"

"I don't know how Emrys puts up with you," Flint scoffed, earning him a swat on the head from Meli. "What great evil has magic ever caused you that warrants two decades of persecution?"

"It's taken my sister, which in turn destroyed my father. Again and again we come under attack by those who use magic." Arthur answered angrily.

"Morgana? Didn't she save your father after Odin sent men to assassinate your family? Isn't she the one who saved your life now from the battlefield now?"

"After she tried to forcibly take Camelot. After she tore the great Veil." Arthur's feelings toward his sister were a jumbled mess.

Flint didn't seem to care. "So she's made a few mistakes. Haven't we all? It all turned out alright now, hasn't it?"

"A few mistakes? She very well could have destroyed Camelot, destroyed the Five Kingdoms even." How could they try and pretend Morgana hadn't committed terribly atrocious acts.

"So what do you want to do? Execute her?"

Arthur shook his head, not knowing what he would do with her when he saw her. "It's not just Morgana. I've faced sorcerers and beasts and undead knights that have threatened the land. There are too many attacks to count."

Flint folded his arms. _How could the prince be so blind? _He thought to himself. _Didn't he ever wonder how the conflict started in the first place? Why Camelot came under attack by those with magic so much more than other kingdoms? _The whole damn war began because the prince's father had a personal grudge, and it seemed like Arthur was only following in Uther's footsteps.

"Think about it, prince. Why was there even a dragon chained underneath your castle? Why did we all live in harmony until twenty years ago? Did you ever think why your father, who has been ruling Camelot for over forty years suddenly decided to wage war against the Old Religion?"

"My father did it to protect his people, as I am doing now. He was courageous enough to see what great evil magic can do." Arthur would not let the stocky man question his father's decisions.

"Stop hiding behind the excuse of protecting your people," the dwarf snapped. "Your father waged war on us because your mother died. Because somehow he decided it must have been magic that caused her passing." His face was red with anger.

"Flint…" Finn placed a hand on the shorter man's shoulder.

"Don't talk about my mother and don't lie about my father." Arthur was equally red.

Flint didn't know what to say in response. He, like most others, guessed that the Great Purge had something to do with the former queen's passing. After all, that was when they were all expelled from Camelot, and that is when the questing beast appeared. But no one really knew what exactly had transpired.

"Magic has existed for centuries, existed peacefully with every great kingdom. It was not until the Queen of Camelot died that it suddenly became unacceptable to believe in the Old Religion." Flint had been alive for much longer than Arthur and Uther. He wouldn't let the prince's inexperience become an excuse.

"Say that one more time." Arthur walked menacingly toward the dwarf, who gripped his mace, ready to strike if the prince made any moves to attack him.

"They're not lies. Your father asked a sorceress for help because they were unable to conceive. Uther sought out a magical solution, and when the results weren't what he wanted, he turned against the ones he sought help from."

They all turned, staring at the source of the voice, Queen Annis.

She had been quiet throughout the entire walk, listening and learning patiently. She had heard enough from Prince Arthur though.

"What do you mean, Annis?" Arthur's tone was unsteady.

"A life must be given for a life to be created. Uther wasn't happy with just your mother, he needed a heir. Perhaps he didn't know that Ygraine would be the sacrifice, but I'm sure he didn't think, didn't care about the consequences."

"How do you know this?" The prince wanted to know more, yet was afraid of what she would say. It was too familiar a story, too similar to the one Morgause had spun.

"Your uncle told me." Her voice was soft, but even, as if she wanted to break the truth to the young prince as gently as possible.

"Agravaine?" The thought of that snake made his blood boil. Nothing he said could be trusted.

"No, Tristan."

* * *

It felt like the longest journey Morgana had ever taken, though they were to reach Avalon within two days. The knights were tired, frustrated, testosterone-fueled, armed and, despised her. They had only finally lowered their weapons at Merlin's insistence.

"She healed Arthur. We have to go back to him and we can't do that without her," Merlin stood obstinately in Gwaine's face, refusing to let the knight get any closer to Morgana.

"She can't be trusted," Gwaine insisted. "She's still guilty of treason. Have you forgotten she should have been executed by now?"

"Then trust me. Look, Gwaine, Camelot is in the hands of Odin right now. We can't bring anyone to justice when we don't even have a kingdom."

It took another 10 minutes of convincing for the knights to lower their weapons. They didn't believe that Morgana could be selflessly helping them and some weren't convinced that Arthur was even still alive. "I don't like this, Merlin. If she so much as casts another spell, I'll run her through on the spot," Gwaine whispered to his friend. "Once she brings us to Arthur, all bets are off."

Merlin nodded. He supposed this was the most he could expect from the knights given their history with Morgana.

Thankfully, the knights for the most part ignored Morgana except to shoot her wary glances and dirty looks as they walked. They were all glad to see Merlin though, and he laughed and ate and walked with them while she walked ahead alone. She didn't understand why he enjoyed their company, for they made him cook and clean and teased him incessantly. He was much more powerful than them, but he seemed happy pretending he was nothing but a simple servant. But there were times where she wished she could have joined them. Times when Brennis offered the last piece of fresh fruit to Merlin, when Leon stood protectively in front of Merlin when he heard a strange noise, when Gwaine made the messiest bed of leaves and insisted on giving his sleeping roll to Merlin. Merlin had friends who loved him for him, not for his magic. Morgana couldn't help but feel a little jealous. She had Avalon, she had Alator, but she didn't have what Merlin did.

The first night they made camp at the border of Camelot and Essetir, as it was already late afternoon when they had crossed paths in the Forest of Ascetir. Morgana had made it a point to sleep away from the knights, but soon regretted she didn't steal a bedroll first. She leaned herself up against a tree, deciding that she would have to make do. She drifted to sleep quickly enough against the sounds of cicadas softly chirping and the light laughter that came from the knights' camp.

Merlin noticed Morgana slipping away from the group out of the corner of his eye. When twenty minutes had passed and she had not returned, he too slipped off in search of her.

When he saw the sorceress lean against a tree, arms wrapped around herself and legs huddled up against her body, he felt a sudden urge to pick her up in his arms and bring her back to the camp, where there were warm fires and chivalrous knights that in any other situation would happily give up their bedrolls for her to sleep on. Merlin sighed, wishing everything wasn't so complicated. It wasn't fair that she was being isolated when she was only trying to do the right thing now. But he couldn't fault the knights for distrusting her, and yet he couldn't bring himself to leave Morgana alone. No, he had long since resolved he would never let Morgana feel alone again. He, above all, was best placed to help her, and he would make sure she knew that no matter what, he would look out for her. Merlin quickly strode back to camp, picking up the bedroll and covers that Gwaine had insisted he use, and brought them back to where Morgana was. He quietly rolled out the sheets and with a soundless spell, he gently levitated Morgana away from her tree, to the area he had set up. He let out a sigh of relief when Morgana settled on the padding without waking. Merlin adeptly pulled off Morgana's boots, setting them to the side, and drew the covers over her.

He didn't want to leave her though. After all, it wasn't safe for a young lady to sleep alone in the woods, despite the fact that she was a High Priestess. But Merlin wasn't sure if it would be proper for him to sleep next to her. Knowing Morgana, if she woke up to find him next to her, she'd probably hex him. Still, Merlin had no intention of freezing in the cold night or making himself a ridiculous bed of leaves. In the end, the wizard settled on tucking himself next to her, careful not to touch Morgana. He placed a long stick between them, mentally telling himself not to cross that divide. He felt better about their sleeping arrangement after that and soon nodded off.

Leon didn't know what to say the next morning when he saw the two asleep in each other's arms. Morgana's head was tucked beneath Merlin's chin, her hands on his chest. His arms had wrapped themselves around her, his hands resting over her waist and on her back. The feeble barrier of a stick Merlin had procured was broken and lost somewhere underneath Merlin's body. Leon was speechless, not quite sure what to make of the scene before him. He retreated back to the rest of the knights, pondering over the sight he had just witnessed. If anything was clear to him, it was that Morgana had enchanted Merlin. He did not know why she had done it, or how he could break it, but he would save his friend from the witch.

Morgana woke in the early hours of the day, surprised to find herself wrapped in someone's arms. She looked up to see Merlin's sleeping face and blushed deeply. She pushed herself away from him slightly and looked around. When she realized what Merlin had done she felt her heart swell. _Even my boots, _she thought to herself. She smiled a rare smile, and wondered how he had gotten her settled in without waking her. _Too much time as Arthur's servant,_ she thought with amusement. She rested her hands back on his chest, feeling his heart beat rhythmically. That strong, steady pulse quickly lulled her back to sleep and the last thing she remembered before drifting off was wondering how much Merlin did truly care about her.

**A/N: Phew that was a long chapter. Thanks for reading and drop me a review please :)**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: So this one a bit short. I originally wrote a Camelot scene but I'm holding off on until I can decide Uther's ultimate fate, eek! **

**Don't really have much else to say other than thanks so much for reading this story!**

**Special special thanks to .10 (aw thanks, glad to be back), Penas e Pergaminhos, Mike3207 (Leon's being saved by magic will come into play soon. It's not so much that he's against magic, just against Morgana's use of magic given her reign of terror), sjritts, phhsdj, Rya3SaberVltar, Kianix, Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714 (Hah, thanks for catching that. I read this on my phone during lunch and laughed out loud, oops!), Fangirl17, icarusLSU, Reader's Delight, LadyDunla, Helenmorgause, Acheron94, TN Sarah, nochance, Renaissancebooklover108, zarifa2013, Sabine 8195, squaredplanet, and Narutoske. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Merlin, Morgana and Merlin would spend at least 50% of their screentime in scenes together. **

The second day of Morgana's travels with the knights seemed to pass by more quickly. She didn't know what exactly had changed, but Merlin made it a point to stay by her side the entire time, engaging her in conversation rather than talking to his friends. She didn't want to talk at first. All she wanted to do was return to Avalon as soon as possible, so she shut down all his attempts at conversation and picked up her pace. He met her stride for stride though, pretending he didn't notice her attempts to isolate herself, and in the end, she gave in, secretly glad she was no longer alone.

And just like that, the day passed by and it soon became dusk again. Morgana couldn't remember the last time she engaged in casual conversation for so long. She supposed it was because he had done most of the talking, pointing out plants and trees along their path and explaining how they could be turned into medicines and draughts.

She had raised an eyebrow after he rattled off the properties of costmary. "I'm surprised you've learned so much from Gaius," she commented

"You're in good company. Arthur says the same thing anytime I prepare him a tonic." Merlin chuckled. "Is this safe to drink, Merlin? Was Gaius there when you made this tonic?" He mimicked the prince's teasing.

Morgana smiled at how accurate Merlin's impression was. "I was going to say, I'm surprised you have time to learn so much about medicine, what with your other—" Morgana paused, trying to think of the right word to use. "—job." She finally settled on. "Though I'm curious, what sort of medicine do you make for Arthur?"

Merlin grinned. "Foot ointments, mostly. The prince had a nasty case of warts a few months ago. Oh, and the occasional mint vinegar solution for his morning breath."

Morgana let out a real laugh at hearing that information. She thought it would feel odd to discuss the people she had left and then tried to destroy, but when Merlin talked, he made her feel like she had never left her old life.

They didn't just talked about Camelot. He talked about his parents too. Merlin described growing up in Ealdor with his mother. "She taught me how to cook and sew, two other skills Arthur doesn't seem to fully appreciate," he joked.

When he realized Morgana wasn't about to share anything about her own family, Merlin talked about his father too, about being a dragonlord, which then led to a discussion about the dragon egg he found and hatched.

"She's beautiful," Merlin reported fondly. "I named her Aithusa, the light of the sun. Kilgharrah says her birth is a good omen." It was nice to have another person to share the news with.

"She sounds stunning." Morgana was captivated by Merlin's description of the hatchling.

"You would like her." Merlin remembered Morgana as being especially fond of animals. "If you'd like, you can meet her sometime," Merlin suggested tentatively.

"I'd really like that, Merlin." It was so strange, making plans for the future with _Emrys_, but she liked it. "Tell me more about dragons," she whispered, leaning closer to him as they continued their journey.

But while Morgana and Merlin were starting to get closer, for every whisper, every laugh, every gesture that was exchanged between the two, the suspicion among the knights increased.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Gwaine frowned. "We need to do something about this soon, Leon." He turned to the taller knight.

"I'm as worried as you are. There's nothing we can do until she leads us back to Arthur though. She's our only link to the prince," Leon responded.

Gwaine nodded at Leon's logic. He could wait until then. He would watch her, make sure that this was the last time Morgana Pendragon ever posed a danger to Camelot.

* * *

There was something that had been bothering Morgana ever since she had the vision of Camelot's takeover. Her uneasiness only increased after Merlin had shared what had happened on the battlefield.

They now knew the Tristan from her vision was Tristan de Bois. "They've been writing each other for who knows how long. But what I don't understand is how he came back to life." Merlin had explained how Tristan was the black knight who challenged Arthur to a duel those years before. "He shouldn't have been able to be revived again. And this time, he was different. There was... skill behind his attacks." Merlin paused to think. "When he first came to Camelot, he fought mindlessly, like a machine."

"Maybe the same person resurrected him again," Morgana suggested. She wasn't sure how necromancy worked, but if they were facing a powerful sorcerer, she definitely needed to know. He promptly assured her that it was not possible, as that sorceress was dead, and again Morgana was reminded that Merlin was also Emrys.

So when the knights stopped to make camp for the night, Morgana slipped again once again to seek the answers they would need in order to stop Tristan de Bois.

She had expected to be gone for only about an hour or so. Merlin was gathering firewood and putting together a stew. She planned to be back before he could notice.

Unfortunately, Morgana's plans were delayed by a miscalculation in her teleportation spell. She meant to visit the Dochraid, for only that old witch was ancient enough and well-versed in dark magic to provide the information she needed.

Her spell had been off target, and Morgana found herself having to walk a decent distance to reach the Dochraid's dwelling. By the time she made her way to the mouth of the Dochraid's cave, she was tired, hungry, and sweaty. _Months of studying with Alator and I still can't cast a teleportation spell properly. I should have asked Merlin to come along, _she thought to herself.

But it would all soon pay off.

"My lady." The Dochraid hobbled over to greet Morgana. Though she was blind, the old witch could still feel the familiar presence and power of the Priestess. "What brings you to my humble dwelling?"

"I seek knowledge. There is a man who has been revived from the dead. He fears neither blade nor magic. He is not a shade, for when I reached to his mind I could find no trace of anyone's control. What sort of magic could create this?"

The Dochraid smiled then, revealing two crooked lines of blackened teeth. "You speak of Tristan de Bois."

Morgana was surprised that the Dochraid called him by name. "Yes. What do you know about him?"

"He is a di mare. Malignant spirits of ancient magic. He was called back to the world by his brother." The Dochraid licked her teeth and turned her head up, trying to recall the man's name. "He had an aggravatingly long name, the younger brother."

"Agravaine." Morgana supplied wearily, wondering how someone as inefficient as Arthur's uncle had ever managed something like this. "How do I stop him?"

"Stop him?" The old crone sounded confused. "Why would you want to do that? Let the de Bois brothers seek their revenge on Camelot. Regardless of their success, their efforts will make it easier for you to overthrow the kingdom."

"I'm afraid I can't allow Agravaine or his brother to take Camelot."

The Dochraid was still confused, but assumed Morgana was just too eager to claim the throne for herself and didn't want to let anyone else have a chance at capturing what was rightfully hers. Still, she had thought that Agravaine de Bois had been working for the High Priestess. "Is he not working under you?"

Morgana didn't like that question. She would have preferred to have never been associated with the likes of Agravaine. "No. I have not seen him in many months."

"You were quite generous with him then, for he paid for his brother's necromancy with your possessions."

"What do you mean?"

"In exchange for telling him how to resurrect his brother, that man paid me in talismans and other rarities." She hobbled to a dark corner of her cave, grabbing something from a stone shelf and hobbling back. "Is this not yours?" She held out a small, glowing vile. "Liquid flame has only ever been made by the High Priestesses." She held out a few more trinkets for Morgana to examine as well.

Morgana's heart sank when she saw the items the old hag held out. They truly were her possessions, or more accurately, Morgause's possessions, that she had left in her old hut.

And then it hit her. She remembered what she had said when she broke off ties with Agravaine and left that wretched hut. She had left him everything, for she felt she had no more use for neither gold nor magical talismans.

"Tell me how to kill him." Morgana was going to fix her careless mistake.

The Dochraid frowned at Morgana's persistence. "Why is this so important to you?" The crone slipped the objects into the pockets of her robes and waited for an answer.

"That is none of your business." Morgana was sure the Dochraid would refuse to help if she knew Morgana was trying to save Camelot.

"None of my business, my lady?" The Dochraid hobbled even closer to Morgana now. Without a warning, she suddenly shot out her arms, grabbing Morgana's neck and then moving her wrinkled fingers up to her face. Though she was ancient, the Dochraid displayed a great deal of strength, holding Morgana's face firmly and casting a silent spell.

By the time Morgana recovered from her shock and sent the Dochraid flying across the room, the old lady had already learned what she needed.

"You're helping Emrys," she hissed angrily as she pulled herself to her feet. "How could you?" The Dochraid had melded her mind to Morgana's briefly and seen enough to piece together Morgana's change in allegiance. "Traitor," she accused, and cast another spell, sending a group of large boulders flying across the air to strike Morgana.

Morgana deflected the attack, sending the rocks over her head and out the cave. "I do not owe you any explanation for my choices."

The Dochraid responded with another barrage of rocks, which Morgana smashed against the side of the cave. "Enough," Morgana commanded, casting her own spell, a little trick she learned from Alator, to stop the Dochraid's attacks. "You will tell me what I need to know. How do I stop Tristan de Bois?"

The Dochraid felt as though a million little leeches had latched themselves on her. As if that feeling were not painful enough, she felt as though the leeches were made of fire, biting into her skin and burning her flesh. "Please, please stop," she howled. "He carries his life not within his body, but in a ruby crystal. If you destroy the crystal, then he will die."

And all of a sudden, the pain stopped. When the Dochraid raised her arms to examine the damage, she realized the pain she felt had all been in her mind, and that Morgana had dealt no physical damage. The Dochraid cursed and was ready to launch another barrage of spells at the traitor, but the young priestess was already casting a teleportation spell by the old witch had finished checking her injuries. "Emyrs will never understand. None of them ever will," she screeched at the disappearing figure. "You gave Agravaine the means to create his monster. They'll only hate you more now." There was nothing else the Dochraid could do to harm Morgana except fling her hateful words.

Morgana didn't know how long she had been gone, but the sky was pitch black when she returned to camp. She didn't know how she was going to face Merlin with the knowledge that she had inadvertently enabled the resurrection of Tristan. All she wanted to do was sleep. She had been too shaken by her meeting with the Dochraid, by the knowledge she had learned.

Morgana had lost an ally in the old witch that night and she was sure she was going to lose an even more important ally in the morning. She wished the sun would never rise. She wished she would have more than a few hours of solitude before she destroyed every little bit of progress in her relationship with Merlin.

Morgana should have known that he wouldn't have gone to sleep without knowing where she was though. So when Morgana returned, even though it was the dead of night , she found Merlin still awake, holding a blanket and pacing back and forth. If she wasn't busy feeling awful and guilty about herself, she would have been touched that he had stayed up for her.

When he caught sight of her, Merlin jogged over to greet her. "Where have you been? I've been searching for you for half the night. Don't disappear on me like that." He eyed her worriedly.

"I…I went to find answers. I went to figure out how Tristan was resurrected." She wrapped her arms around herself awkwardly to keep herself from trembling. There was no point in lying to Merlin now, but she wasn't sure she would be able to handle his reaction to her news.

He mistook her gesture and thought she was cold. "Come on, Morgana." He held his arm, motioning her to walk with him. They walked a few paces further to the north until they could no longer see the camp, and he gestured for Morgana to sit. She sat robotically, not noticing him as he started a small fire with his magic and covered her legs with a blanket. She was still trying to figure out how she was going to tell Merlin that she was the cause of all Camelot's troubles.

When he finished with the fire, Merlin sat down across from her, still looking worried. "Where did you go tonight?"

There was no best way to tell Merlin what she had learned, so she just recounted the night as she remembered it. When she finished explaining how Tristan had been revived, she wanted to tell Merlin how sorry she was, wanted to ask if he would be able to forgive her for playing a role in this mess. She didn't say anything of those things though. She was too afraid to let him see how much her heart ached over her actions.

But when she faced Merlin, she could see that he knew she never intended for this to happen. She could see that he believed that she truly meant to leave her old life behind, that she never imagined Agravaine would do anything with the trinkets she left behind. And for a second, she believed it might all be okay. But she also understood that intentions were immaterial, that _intentions _were what had caused a rift between them in the first place.

Merlin had seen all sides of Morgana, from the polished lady of the court to the rawest, wildest version of her. She was a woman of strong emotions, and throughout the years he had seen in her eyes pride, happiness, love, hate, determination, anger, fear. What he saw now frightened him, for it was something he had never seen in Morgana before. There was nothing in her eyes but defeat.

Defeat was an emotion Morgana never allowed herself to feel. Even when Arthur retook Camelot, even when she lost Morgause, Morgana never felt defeat. She only ever allowed herself to look forward for defeat was too crippling. Defeat meant resigning herself to the hopelessness of her situation. But in that moment, all Morgana could think was that she would never be able to escape her past choices. It seemed almost pointless to try. It was her destiny to be Camelot's enemy, to be Merlin's enemy. She could do nothing but drown in that hopelessness and choke down the sob that was threatening to burst from her.

Merlin didn't know what he could say to reassure her that it would be okay. He wasn't even sure if things would be okay after this. Arthur, or at the very least, the knights, would never trust her after they learned of her connection to Agravaine and Tristan, even though it wasn't directly her fault.

He said nothing, and instead, slowly made his way next to her, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her closer to him when she didn't object. Morgana couldn't bear to face Merlin, but she didn't want him to leave either, so she in turn buried her face into his shoulder.

When she hadn't moved for a few minutes, he shook her gently. Morgana lifted her head, tentatively meeting Merlin's eyes. She couldn't read his expression, but relaxed a little when he smiled. Silently, Merlin gestured to the fire in front of them.

And to Morgana's own surprise, it was just his silence that she needed then. She didn't want him to ask her any questions, for she didn't have any adequate answers. She didn't want to talk her through that moment of weakness for fear she would cry. She couldn't handle his anger and she wasn't sure she could accept his forgiveness.

So she looked at the fire like he wanted, and her eyes widened at the sight before her. The warlock had cast a spell to make the fire come alive. The flames took the shape of two dragons, one large and one small, with two figures riding on the back of the larger dragon, and Morgana was reminded of the future she had looked forward to just hours before, the baby dragon she couldn't wait to meet.

The silent intimacy of Merlin's actions gave Morgana the peace of mind she needed and she leaned her head back on his shoulder, watching the dragons spark and soar through the air. She knew that they would have to talk about it eventually, would have to deal with the aftershocks of her actions and figure out how to save Camelot from Tristan. But for the time being, Morgana allowed herself to spend a second night in a row contentedly falling asleep in Merlin's embrace.

**A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this! Reviews are loved as always :)**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: My muse for this story pretty much left me for a while so very sorry for the long wait! I'm always a little paranoid when I write new chapters because I want to make sure the characters are progressing at a believable rate, especially when it comes with Morgana and the rest of the characters, which inevitably ends with me backtracking and adding in additional scenes!**

**Super super thanks for all the new follows, faves and reviews. It gives me a lot of motivation to kick out that writer's block! Special thanks to icarusLSU, Guest (Aww, thanks so much!), Rya3SaberVltar, squaredplanet, zarifa2013, LadyDunla, Renaissancebooklover108, TN Sarah, Kianix, Mike3207, Penas e Pergaminhos, phhsdj, sjrtts, Sabine8195, BlueMoonMaples, Narutoske, Fangirl17, Acheron94, william (mhm! Though the way he was brought back is a little different now), Guest, zeldor765 (Promise I won't abandon this fic!)**

**Halfway done with the next chapter though, and as soon as I get my AC working it's back to typing :)**

**Disclaimer: Merlin is not mine but maybe my roommate will let me hang a Merlin poster in our apartment hmm…**

Morgana never would have imagined that she would dread returning to Avalon. Yet there they were, the next morning, only a few short hours from reaching the Isle, and she felt an increasing feeling of apprehensiveness as the tips of Avalon's mighty towers came closer in their view.

The repercussions of her careless actions were becoming clearer to Morgana as she had more time to think about the Dochraid's words. She replayed that moment in her mind when she left Agravaine in her hut, not even thinking about the power she bestowed upon him by leaving all of Morgause's trinkets. All she had to do was destroy them or take them with her. Certainly anything else was better than casually telling Agravaine he could have them. But hindsight only served to make her feel more miserable.

She wasn't looking forward to Arthur's reaction when he found out who Tristan was and how he had been resurrected, but even more so, she dreaded facing Alator. She didn't want her mentor to see the person she used to be, the life she previously led. Sure, her notoriety preceded her when they first met, but that chapter of her life closed when she decided to save Uther. Morgana didn't fear her mentor's reaction, but rather that he would see the parts of her that were dark and unsightly. She didn't want him to know the details of how she had truly been a witch of woman, who brooded and schemed in a dirty little hut with Arthur's own uncle about how to kill the prince. She wasn't proud of that period of her life, for all her actions against Camelot were fueled by all the wrong reasons. She wasn't fighting for the Old Religion and she wasn't fighting against Uther's unfair policies. She was acting out of revenge and hate, the very evils she had on countless occasions called Uther out on. That torrid past was something she didn't want to resurface in her new home.

Morgana also didn't like thinking about how she had gone from being Uther's outspoken ward to becoming Camelot's greatest enemy and threat. It made her wonder if maybe she was predestined to cause Camelot's demise. All her attempts to do good, or rather, to stop inflicting harm, seemed to be an uphill battle that she couldn't win.

But she paused her frantic thoughts when they exited the forest and reached the shores of the lake of Avalon. She was home.

"How are we to cross this lake?" For the first time since their initial meeting, Gwaine addressed Morgana directly.

"_We _will not be going anywhere together. Avalon is a sacred place where your attitudes and swords will not be welcome," Morgana dryly informed the knight.

"Trust me, Morgana. I want to be at Avalon even less than you want me there, but we're here for Arthur and he's there." Gwaine pointed across the lake with one hand, the other rested on the hilt of his sword, ready for action in case Morgana tried anything strange.

"You can wait here for him. I'll bring him back to you myself." She would not let even the smallest platoon of Camelot's troops step foot on Avalon. It defeated the entire purpose of rebuilding the Isle.

"Right. As if I'm going to let you disappear onto that island alone. Who's to say you'll return."

"If I wanted to disappear I could have any time these past two days." Morgana did not like Gwaine's tone. "Unless you think you can make it across this lake alone, I would suggest you wait here for me."

"I have a feeling you'll be letting us cross the lake." Gwaine started to withdraw his sword.

"Are you threatening me?" Morgana held her head high.

"You may have sorcery, but we outnumber you greatly." The knights behind Gwaine took his words as a sign to start drawing their weapons as well. They were weary and battered, and having lost their kingdom as well as their prince, were more than ready to lash out at any target available.

"Gwaine." Merlin's voice entered the conversation, wanting to diffuse the situation. "I'll go with her. I'll bring Arthur back, I promise."

Without taking his eyes off Morgana, Gwaine responded harshly, "I won't let you go alone with her. It's not safe."

"I'll be fine. She hasn't led us astray yet." Merlin shot Morgana a quick smile which she returned with only the slightest curve of her lips.

But their little exchange only served as further evidence to Gwaine that Merlin was enchanted. "She's a witch and you're under her spell, Merlin. Have you forgotten what she's done to Camelot? All the lives that were lost because of her? The months of rebuilding her destruction?"

He hadn't, but Merlin didn't know how to explain that she had turned over a new leaf without revealing too much. "Morgana's different now. People change and—"

"She's changed you." Gwaine cut Merlin off. "If you were yourself, you'd see how ridiculous your words sound."

Before Merlin could respond, Morgana spoke, ending the conversation. She wished for no enmity between the two friends for her sake. "If concern for Merlin is why you wish to go to Avalon, then come. You will appreciate that out of concern for my people, a legion of Camelot's knights will not be welcome to Avalon though."

And Gwaine, for all his mistrust of Morgana, could understand her reasoning if she was telling the truth.

But more likely than not he was convinced it was a trap. Maybe she needed the sword Merlin carried to complete some sort of spell. Maybe Arthur was already dead. Maybe she had an army hidden on the Isle. He didn't know what Morgana was scheming but Gwaine decided regardless of the dangers, he would protect his friend.

So it was agreed, Morgana would bring Gwaine and Merlin, as well as Leon, upon the latter's insistence, to Avalon. Neither group was happy. Leon and Gwaine were apprehensive about travelling though the fog to Morgana's home and Morgana wondered if she should have compromised her principles for the sake of knights of Camelots.

As they readied to part ways, Leon left Sir Brennis in charge, instructing them to set up camp at the edge of the forest. "Send a few men as close to Camelot as possible without getting caught. I will be relying on you for news of the kingdom when we return with the prince."

As Leon finished instructing the knights he was leaving behind, Morgana had pulled out a small onyx whistle from a necklace tucked underneath her blouse. She blew on it, though Leon could hear no sound emitted.

But just a minute later, out of the thick fog that rolled off the surface of the lake, four inky black stallions with glassy green manes appeared, stopping at the edge of the lake.

"Kelpies," Morgana softly informed Merlin as she stroked and untangled the wet mane of the horse before her. She mounted the creature, motioning for the others to do the same. For Morgana and Merlin, the kelpies seemed to bow down, allowing the two easier access to their backs.

It was not as easy for Gwaine and Leon. Leaving their swords behind as Morgana made them promise, the knights struggled to lift themselves onto the strange horses. Soon enough though, the quartet retreated into the fog and towards their destination.

When they arrived at Avalon, the knights stumbled off the kelpies and onto land. Leon had expected the horses to walk on water, or at least glide through it, but the motions of the kelpies were more similar to seals dipping in and out of the water than the steady gallop of a horse on land. They had all remained dry, no doubt from some magic of Morgana, but the feeling of rising in and out of the lake while not being able to see through the fog was thoroughly jarring.

As Leon stumbled off his kelpie, his legs still shaky from the experience, Morgana seemed to suddenly appear at his side, one hand on his elbow and the other on the back, allowing himself to stabilize his balance.

"Thank you." He was taken aback by her actions, and judging by her reaction, she seemed equally as surprised that she had come to his side.

It would have been a nice moment, as Leon wondered if they should try being less brusque towards Morgana, but it was quickly interrupted by the angry fluttering of wings.

"What is this, Morgana? Knights of Camelot?" A group of Sidhe, the ever watchful sentries of the Isle, approached the weary travelers just seconds after they dismounted from the kelpies. One of the Sidhe flittered in front of Gwaine's face, staring at the knight. "Rather brutish looking, this one. Are you sure they shouldn't be in chains?"

"They are my guests." Morgana quickly answered before Gwaine could say anything. "That is Sir Gwaine, one of the most courageous knights of Camelot, and that is Sir Leon, the most honorable knight of the kingdom." Morgana kept her tone civil and hoped her words would keep the knights from saying anything rash to the blue faeries. Surprisingly, the compliments came easily, whether it was what Morgana believed as the truth or just the result of a lifetime of training in courtly manners.

"Guests? These are friends of yours?" There was no mistaking the disparagement in the Sidhe's voice. "You might find yourself losing friendsquickly with the company you're keeping." And as quickly as they had come, the little blue figures scattered, having no desire to bestow their precious time on the insignificant humans.

_That went better than imagined,_ Morgana thought to herself. She had been half expecting the Sidhe to try and blast the knights off the island. Reproachful words she could handle.

But as the group walked more inland, Morgana realized the truth in the Sidhe's threat.

As they saw Morgana approaching, many people stopped what they were doing to greet her but paused when they saw the billowing red capes of the two men behind her. Instead, many looked at the group warily, some offering an awkward and feeble wave to Morgana and others just staying back completely. "I thought we would be safe here, James." A thin druid woman whispered to the man beside her. "Those are knights of Camelot."

She could see herself destroying every bit of credibility she had with her people. Perhaps it would have been better to bring the knights to Avalon in shackles. Either way, there was no way she could have appeased both sides. Morgana only hoped nothing disastrous occurred while Leon and Gwaine were on the Isle.

Arthur could see the pity in their eyes after Annis' account of her time with Tristan. Even Flint looked extraordinarily uncomfortable and avoided all eye contact, almost regretting he had ever broached the subject. Meli's eyes were round in shock, tiny hands covering her mouth. The consequences of Uther's decision seemed viciously unending and indiscriminate of who it would hurt.

* * *

Arthur was grateful that no one had commented on the subject. Instead Alator quietly led them back to their "jail" in the main tower. If he hadn't been so taken aback, Arthur would have appreciated that none of them had rubbed the truth in his face, called the Pendragons hypocrites, demanded he pay for the years of persecution.

He didn't know if he was more heartbroken by the fact that his father was responsible for his mother's death or the knowledge that his uncles were seeking to kill him and destroy Camelot, all in the name of revenge for his mother.

His entire life had been one big deception. He was born of magic, wrought to life in exchange for his mother's. He had taken away Camelot's queen, Agravaine and Tristan's sister, and perhaps most egregiously, the lives of many innocent souls who Uther persecuted for having magic. His life, one tiny life, came at such a great cost. Arthur hated himself in that moment. He hated himself. He hated his father. He hated the universe.

Oddly enough, it was Annis who brought him solace in his rage and grief. "Whatever this knowledge means to you, remember that you are also your mother's son. I thought you were too much of Uther's boy, but you showed mercy on the battlefield, something your father never would have done." When Arthur didn't response, Annis continued. "Ygraine loved you. I visited Camelot during her pregnancy and I had never seen her happier than when she was carrying you." As much as Annis didn't care for Uther, she loved Ygraine.

"Why are you telling me this? Why are you trying to make me feel better? You heard my uncle; everything is my fault, my father's fault."

"Tristan is not the same man I used to know," Annis answered gravely. "Perhaps things would be different if Ygraine were alive. I doubt your uncles would be seeking revenge. I doubt our kingdoms would have warred. But your mother was my best friend and I know she would have willingly given up her life in exchange for yours."

"She shouldn't have had to. My birth shouldn't have been the cause of her death."

"She did not die so you could sit here and pity yourself. She would have wanted you to live fully, honorably. You are Camelot's prince. You have a responsibility to your people. You have a responsibility to right the wrongs of the past. If you can't accept the circumstances of your birth, then take it up with your father. You had no control over anything when you were born." Annis would not let the prince bask in his misfortune. The truth was indeed harsh, but like her, he was the leader of a kingdom, and there was no way to look but forward if he wanted his kingdom to survive.

Her words brought some small comfort to Arthur. He still didn't feel like he deserved to be prince though, much less king. He was not the leader Camelot deserved. Arthur couldn't help but question everything now. How could he blame his uncles for betraying him, for hating him? How could he fight Morgana or Alator or anyone with magic after everything Uther put them through? He understood why he had been betrayed now, and why they hated him. He didn't make the decision to be born of magic, but it was still his existence that ruined the lives of so many.

Arthur's thoughts were dark and angry, his emotions so volatile, but he still tried his best to contain the way he was feeling. The prince wanted to smash something, to hurt something or someone, but Arthur tried to push those thought far away until he could figure out a way to save his people. He didn't deserve to lead them, but it was his fault that Tristan and Agravaine were targeting Camelot. It was the only thing that kept him from completely losing it. He just couldn't think about his parents, couldn't think about all the years he had lived as the personification of ignorance and arrogance.

It was in that state of mind that Arthur was reunited with Merlin. The tiniest sliver of relief bubbled its way up through Arthur's otherwise haphazard state, which was followed by surprise and a different sort of relief when he saw Gwaine and Leon appear behind his manservant.

"Gwaine! Leon!" Arthur was glad to see them alive and well. The prince moved to greet them but stopped when he saw the figure enter the room. "Morgana."

She didn't bother greeting her brother. She wasn't looking forward to speaking with Arthur. She believed he would be a better king than Uther, but she somewhat bitterly reminded herself that it didn't take much to be a better man than Uther. The last time they had met, he had promised that he wouldn't let their father execute her, that he saw the good in her, only to see him stand at Uther's side at her execution, silent as the king ordered her death. She didn't trust him and she knew he would not trust her after he learned about Tristan. No, there was no need for niceties when their conversation would only dissolve into argument later.

"Queen Annis, I believe we promised you would be able to see your men." Alator addressed the Queen of Caerleon, having followed Morgana into the room. "Lady Guinevere, perhaps you would like some refreshment?" He would leave the room to Morgana.

Annis stood to follow Alator as did Gwen, but before she left, the latter turned her head to face Leon. "Please, Leon, I know I have no right to ask, but tell me how Elyan is. Is he… unharmed?" She couldn't bear to ask if her brother was dead.

"He was still alive when we parted ways." Leon couldn't help responding Gwen. They were old friends, and Elyan was her only remaining family.

"Parted ways? When? Where is he now?" The questions slipped out of Gwen's mouth rapidly.

Leon wasn't sure he should be answering her questions, and he turned to Arthur with a questioning look.

"Why don't you stay, Guinevere?" The prince looked to Alator for confirmation, purposely avoiding Gwen's eyes.

Gratefully, Gwen sat back down and Alator departed with Annis. "If you need anything, my lady…" he addressed Morgana before leaving, speaking in a thunderous voice, as if to remind the knights that they were to be well-behaved guests. He didn't like leaving Morgana with them before he had a chance to talk to her.

As soon as Alator shut the door, Arthur launched into a stream of questions. "What happened at Kemeray? How did you make it here? Where is everyone else? What happened to Annis' champion?"

Leon and Gwaine described the aftermath of the battle. "Once the fog lifted, you and Caerleon's queen were gone, as was her champion. We thought he had disappeared with you," Leon explained.

"Then we heard accounts that Morgana was the cause of the fog, that she had appeared with an army of faeries," Gwaine contributed. "But none of us knew what had just happened and why."

"What did you do then?" Arthur hoped they had not broken out into battle.

"Leon called a truce with the queen's second-in-command. We agreed to stop fighting until we could locate you and find Annis."

Arthur's shoulders relaxed in relief. "Thank you, Leon."

"No thanks are necessary, my lord." Leon bowed slightly. "But if you and Queen Annis are safe, perhaps it would be wise to negotiate an armistice." He had noticed the civility and respect the Queen and Arthur seemed to exchange when she departed. "I do not think our people can handle two wars."

Arthur nodded. He had no intention of fighting Annis anymore if it could be avoided. "Where did you go from the battlefield?"

"We split up. Half of us made our way to the Forest of Ascetir to regroup and find you." Leon continued the story, explaining how they had nowhere to go from the Ridge. Camelot was no longer safe so the Forest of Ascetir was the only place they could hide for the time being. "We met Merlin by sheer luck. There was an illuminated path when we reached the forest so we followed it to them." He wanted to mention that Merlin was possibly under some sort of spell by Morgana, but figured it wasn't the right time.

"And the other half?"

"Elyan and Perceival led the other men back to Camelot, to help anyone that had escaped and to come up with a strategy to retake the castle." Leon did all of the speaking now. He had tried to convince Elyan to stay with the group, but the other knight refused, saying it was his responsibility to look after Camelot. Arthur had left the kingdom in his hands, and Elyan would not abandon their people.

"Don't worry." Gwaine saw the concerned look on Arthur's face. "We'll rejoin them soon though. Merlin's even got some special sword for you. Don't you Merlin?" Gwaine purposely brought up the sword, curious as to what it was exactly and if Morgana had some ulterior motive in obtaining it.

All eyes turned to face the manservant.

Merlin wasn't sure what to say. From what Morgana had told him about her conversation with the Dochraid, even Excalibur might not be able to strike Tristan down. He wished he had Gaius to help him, to look up di mares in his thick book of mythical creatures. To be safe, Arthur would need to destroy the ruby in Agravaine's possession, but how was he to explain all of this to the prince?

Luckily, Merlin had remained quiet for a smidge too long, and Arthur spoke instead. "I'm afraid whatever sword you have won't do me much good." Arthur didn't know how to reveal the truth to his men, so he settled on revealing only what was necessary. "Annis' champion is Tristan de Bois. He is my uncle, who Agravaine used magic to resurrect." He explained how he learned everything from Annis, but left out the revelation that he had been born of magic. "It's a personal grudge. I will not let anyone else die for me. I will go to Camelot alone and throw down the gauntlet."

As soon as Arthur's words sunk in, he was met by hearty protests from Leon and Gwaine and even a worried breath from Gwen. "You cannot. If anything, you must stay back, stay safely away from the frontlines while we reclaim Camelot. You are the crown prince and we cannot lose you," Leon pointed out.

"Merlin." Arthur turned to his manservant, who had been surprisingly quiet during the entire discussion. "What do you think?"

"Whatever it is you decide to do, I'll be there right next to you," Merlin answered seriously. "You'll need a physician to patch you up after you challenge your uncles and Odin to single combat."

He'd let Merlin get away with calling himself a physician this time, though he wasn't sure his friend was equipped to cure anything more than small ailments and shallow injuries. He appreciated that Merlin didn't tell him not to go, that it was too dangerous. He was a prince, and he led a life where he couldn't avoid the dangers of war, couldn't shirk away from battle or his responsibility to his people.

For Arthur, Merlin's words were a reminder of how much support his best friend offered. Arthur didn't need more people telling him what he should or shouldn't do. And though Merlin was not a fighter or a strategist, he was irreplaceable.

But for Morgana, Merlin's words were as much a reminder of why she respected him so much but also that the man she had grown to be fond of, to rely on and trust, held Arthur first and foremost in his heart.

"Besides, even Tristan has a weakness," Merlin continued. "He contains his life in a ruby that Agravaine wears in a crystal around his neck." Merlin had everyone's full attention now. "If you destroy that, whatever magic that brought him to life will be dispelled."

"Are you serious, Merlin? How do you know this?"

Morgana didn't want to hear Merlin's answer. She knew what was coming. She didn't expect him to keep it a secret, but she didn't want to hear those words come out of _his _mouth. She didn't want to hear the disappointment and blame in Merlin's voice.

"I've suspected Agravaine was a traitor for a while. So when I was searching for clues on Gaius' disappearance, I went into Agravaine's room and found some letters. They were addressed to a Tristan and mentioned how they'd be unstoppable as long as the crystal was safe. And then I remembered bringing him bath water once, and thinking how it was strange that he didn't take off his necklace when bathing. After what you just said…I just put two and two together. It all makes sense now."

His story was true for the most part, and Arthur knew Merlin had been the first to suspect Agravaine. _What they don't know won't hurt them. _It was clear to Merlin that the truth would hurt Morgana more than it would provide any sort of resolution or help the situation at hand.

Merlin locked eyes with Morgana, and the surprise and gratitude she felt was evident. Maybe she didn't realize it yet, or maybe she just didn't believe in him enough yet, but Merlin had promised himself that he would look after her and he honestly meant it. It would be difficult to protect Arthur and Morgana, but Merlin would try like hell to make sure he could shield them both from whatever disappointment, grief, or harm that came their way.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Drop a review and let me know what you thought! **


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Hello there! Frantically packing as I'm moving into my new apartment soon so I'll keep this AN short.**

**I honestly wish I could say something other than thank you for reading and reviewing, because it's ridiculous how happy it makes me that you guys enjoy this. But until I think of something… super thanks as always!**

**Special thanks to sjritts, squaredplanet, Mike3207, zarifa2013, Renaissancebooklover108, LadyDunla, Kianix, Narutoske, penas e Pergaminhos, 4 mergana, zeldor765 (Thank you! I agree! She was a completely unsympathetic person by season 5 :/), TN Sarah, phhsdj, and Guest (Mhm! It'll be tough and I don't know if Merlin will be able to pull it off)**

**Disclaimer: 29 chapters later and Merlin is still not mine. **

Morgana was over it.

She was done playing nice with the knights, done being courteous and biting her tongue. She would have been more tolerable of Gwaine's distrust had they been anywhere else. But this was Avalon, her home. She had risked a great deal to bring them on the Isle, to reunite them with Arthur, and she was not going to treat them with civility if Gwaine was going to jump on every chance to allude to the idea that she was an evil enchantress.

It was ridiculous to her how the conversation seemed to center on how to defeat Tristan. Had Merlin not already provided the solution? They considered Tristan the biggest threat because he was created from magic, but Morgana wanted to point out that even after they defeated Tristan, they still had Odin and his army to deal with. She wanted to scream that magic wasn't the problem here. The problem was that Uther had made too many enemies, both magical and non-magical, that were eager to see Camelot's downfall.

"Perhaps this is not the best place to talk about it." Gwaine scratched his neck and unsuccessfully tried to surreptitiously gesture to Morgana with his eyes. They were beginning to plan their counterattack.

"Perhaps you'd like to go back to Camelot and discuss your plans then. Feel free to leave at any time." Morgana kept her words emotionless. "In the meantime, I have some other business to attend to." She walked towards the door. Maybe the idiot knights would actually be able to come up with a plan to retake Camelot if she were gone.

"Morgana, wait!" Arthur stood up to follow her. They were long overdue for a proper conversation.

She heard him, but had no desire for more talking and didn't break her pace. The door had already slammed shut by the time Arthur stood.

Merlin winced when the door shut. In moments like these, Merlin felt that they were destined to be kindred spirits. He was sure that no one would ever quite understood her the way he did.

Of course everyone knew that Morgana didn't suddenly become the evil sorceress whose name evoked fear through the Five Kingdoms. Those closest to her knew she didn't fall to evil all by herself. But beyond that, no one thought too much about it. Sure, the memory of Morgana crossed the minds of some occasionally. There were still days when Arthur felt the castle was much too quiet without the easy banter between them. There were days where Gaius looked at his potions hatefully, wondering why, after his decades of studying, that he could not help those who needed him the most. They would think of Morgana and wish they had been able to reach her, to talk her out of her decision, to change the past. They would wonder what they could have said or done to stop her descent into darkness. They would mourn her, thinking it didn't have to be that way.

To them, there was the old Morgana, the kind-hearted, courageous, beautiful lady. And then there was the witch Morgana, shrill and callous, her former beauty shrouded by her constant scowl and the twisted look on her face. To them, the old Morgana was gone forever. No one even thought of trying to bring her back.

But to Merlin, the old Morgana and the new Morgana were still one and the same, and he hated how everyone thought the Morgana they used to know was dead when they had a chance to bring out the good in her.

* * *

Morgana needed clarity. She was playing a dangerous game by getting involved in Arthur's wars yet building a safe haven for those with magic. She loved Avalon for it represented her new life, but Morgana felt as though she couldn't leave her old life behind completely yet.

These thoughts made Morgana feel like a hypocrite, and as she sat in her room, she wondered what the right thing to do next would be.

There were so many people who expected different things from her that she was beginning to lose sight of her own voice.

Morgana pulled off her travelling clothes and grabbed a simple sleeveless dress that flowed to her ankles.

She flopped down on her bed, kicking off her boots and pulling the tie off her hair, relaxing into the softness of her sheets. Morgana closed her eyes, enjoying the quiet, but it wasn't long before she heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," she called, her eyes still closed.

She rolled over on her stomach and opened her eyes, expecting to see Alator.

"Merlin? What are you doing here?"

He gave her a crooked smile. "I'm enchanted, remember? I can't be trusted to be a part of the conversation," he said in mock seriousness.

Morgana's lips twitched into a small smile at his words. "If I could enchant the great Emrys, I probably have better uses for his abilities." She sat up on the bed and motioned Merlin to sit next to her.

Though the situation at hand didn't change, Merlin immediately felt better as he talked to Morgana. He sat down next to her, feeling overly conscious that his dirt-layered pants were on her white sheets. He had long passed the stage of feeling anxious around her, but as he sat next to her, he couldn't help but admire Morgana. She was clad in a loose dress, its soft dewy green color bringing out the greenness of her eyes. Her hair was tousled gently, framing her face, with some stray pieces of stray bark hiding in the waves of her dark locks. She reminded him of the wood nymphs he had read about in Gaius' books— beautiful, wild, and deeply rooted to the earth yet magically divine at the same time. _You've already enchanted the great Emrys,_ Merlin thought briefly before shaking that thinking out of his mind.

"How'd you know where to find me?" Morgana filled the brief silence.

"Figured you'd be in your room." Merlin shrugged. "The challenge was figuring out which one was yours."

Morgana raised her eyebrows, surprised that he had sought her out. "Thanks. You know, for back there, with the Tristan information. You could have told them the truth though. I would have understood."

Merlin shook his head. "What happened with Tristan wasn't your fault and I won't have anything thinking it is. I'm sorry about them, about all the trouble we've caused you by coming to Avalon."

Morgana held back a snort. "That Gwaine sure is something."

"He's just concerned. He doesn't know you like I do."

"Mmm." Morgana wasn't sure she and Gwaine would ever get along. "Is there something you needed from me? I'll help you and Arthur return to Camelot when you're ready of course." There was no more gentle amusement in Morgana's tone.

"No." Merlin suddenly felt like his presence was unwanted. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay and apologize for bringing you into this. I'll go now."

"Wait, Merlin. Stay." The words left Morgana's mouth before she could stop herself.

Merlin turned to face her. "Is there something you needed from me?" Though he only parroted her words, the question felt more like the flirty banter Gwaine was known for than a serious inquiry.

"It's…" Morgana struggled to find the words she wanted to say to Merlin. "…nice talking to you," she ended lamely.

"When I'm here," she started again. "With you." She folded her arms and looked at him. "It's just us." She winced, wondering why she was stating the obvious.

She tried again. "It's nice." _Really Morgana, nice? _

"It's relaxing." _Still not quite right. _

"You've seen me at my highs and my lows. You know nearly all my secrets. I wish we had more of these moments together." _Much better. _

"Me too." Merlin cocked his head and looked at her brightly. "But we will have moments like these all the time. Arthur and the knights don't understand yet, but they will." He sincerely believed his words.

Morgana hated how infectious Merlin's smile was. It made it so hard for her to contradict him. "Everything changes when we walk out that door. When it's no longer just you and me."

"But it doesn't have to be that way."

"I don't think you'll be able to keep your secret for long if we're discussing how you hatched a dragon in front of Arthur." She pointed out the obvious. "I'm not asking you to give anything up or to choose a side. I treasure these moments, Merlin, but you belong in Camelot and I belong here. Just stay a little longer right now. Tell me another fascinating story about how you've saved my clotpole of a brother from danger."

He hated that she refused to go back to Camelot with him. It wasn't that Merlin didn't see what greatness she had achieved while at Avalon, but Camelot was her home too. She had a place there. He didn't see why she couldn't have two homes.

"What are you scared of? Camelot will come to accept you. Arthur surely sees how much you've been helping him. The age of magic is in the near future. Isn't this what you wanted?" He couldn't understand why she was so averse to ever returning to Camelot.

"It is! Of course is it. I want those with magic to never feel afraid again. I want Camelot to be a place where those with magic can live peacefully. It's just no longer a place for me."

"Why? How? Camelot is your home. Are you just going to shut yourself away from the world and stay in this tower on Avalon?" Merlin's last question wasn't posed seriously, but when he saw her uncomfortable reaction to it, he wondered if that was truly her plan. "Morgana?"

"What if that is what I want to do? To stay at Avalon, in this tower?"

"Why?" His confusion and frustration were increasing.

"Because no good can come of me being in Camelot!" She wondered why it wasn't obvious to Merlin "Already I'm afraid that every action I take is bringing me closer to the destiny I was so afraid of."

"What destiny is that?"

She rubbed her arm uncomfortably. "The one where I raise an immeasurable army to defeat Camelot. The one where I die by your hands." She had so many dreams. Dreams of a great battle against Camelot. Dreams of Arthur's death, dreams of her own death. For a brief period, she had even dreamt of a future, a _relationship _with Merlin on Avalon. But as of late, she had no dreams, and she wasn't sure if that was more relieving or worrying.

But the minute she saw the devastated look on Merlin's face, Morgana wanted to take her words back. It wasn't that she was still trying to punish him for his choices or remind him that he had once tried to poison her. It just seemed less and less possible that Arthur and Morgana would see to eye to eye, and she knew whose side Merlin would take if it came down to a choice. What surprised her was the twinge of pain she felt at the realization that she really wanted him to choose her, to stand up for magic, to stand at her side.

Merlin didn't know what to say to assure her. Though he truly believed she was not the witch that the Great Dragon foresaw, Merlin knew how difficult it was to escape the trappings of destiny. He had embraced his destiny, which proved to be extremely difficult to fulfill, and he could only imagine how tough it was to try and fight against destiny as Morgana was.

There were too many unspoken words between them. With every issue they seemed to start to resolve, more and more problems arose. And with every new difficulty they faced, more and more unspoken words were conceived, increasing every day and getting heavier and heavier.

His arm snaked firmly around her back, pulling her closer to him, his head turning and lowering until it rested on her shoulder. "That'll never come to pass." He whispered the words, the only thing he could think of to say. "I'm sorry." Merlin wanted to do nothing but apologize again and again until she realized how truly remorseful he was of everything that had happened between them.

"Me too," she whispered back, leaning into him. Like Merlin, she wasn't sure what she was apologizing for. There seemed to be too much.

Merlin pulled back slowly. "Look at me."

Surprised at the commanding tone of his voice, Morgana turned to face him, and Merlin searched her eyes to try and see where her head was at. She couldn't doubt herself now, not when so much had changed for the better.

Merlin wanted to promise her that everything would be okay, that he would make up for what had happened in the past, that he would make sure she never got hurt in the future. But he couldn't. He didn't know if he could protect Morgana, if he could give her the happiness she deserved. He would try of course, but Merlin _had_ to put Arthur first, and it seemed inevitable that he would end up hurting her again for the sake of protecting his prince.

Even now, though he had lied to Arthur to spare Morgana's feelings, Merlin knew he was still putting her in a tough position by having so many outsiders on Avalon. He was putting Arthur's wellbeing before hers again, shamelessly accepting her help and her resources. And what was she getting out of it? Abrasive comments from Gwaine and alienation from her own people.

Merlin rested his forehead against hers, his left hand gently touching her neck. He wanted to share in her suffering, to relieve some of her stress. He stayed like that for a moment, waiting for her to object, waiting for her to pull away from him. But instead she stayed still, her emerald eyes boring into his, silently asking him if he really believed that someday everything would be okay again. Again, he didn't have an answer, didn't know what words would be enough.

So he took a plunge and closed the last inch of distance between them by placing his lips on hers.

At first Merlin meant for it to be gentle, a tender reassurance, but as soon as his lips captured hers, he felt an unexpected rush of urgency and desire. He kissed her with the months and years of pent up frustrations and regrets he thought he had long ago buried. Her lips pushed back boldly, molding against his and trying to take control.

It was different than the nights she had spent in his arms. He had held her then so carefully, with the gentleness and caring she had come to associate with Merlin. He was kissing her ruthlessly now, a wet and frantic kiss. Though she had learnt much about Merlin since she first met him, Morgana was still surprised when his calm and easygoing personality shifted to his passionate and serious side. This was the real Merlin, the great Emrys behind the façade of the manservant.

So she kissed him back with abandon, throwing all self-consciousness away. Maybe Merlin would always put Arthur first, but at least he let her, trusted her to see the real him, and that somehow meant more to her.

The kiss wasn't a promise that everything would be okay. It was a new promise, a pledge of an intertwined future that they would create together, free of the confines of her fears.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Drop a review if you'd like please :) **


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: Hello! I haven't gotten around to getting Internet in my new place yet so I've settled into the corner Starbucks to get this uploaded.**

**You guys are the best. Thanks for the reviews and faves and follows. It honestly keeps me motivated and keeps me from strangling this monster of a child at the next table screaming about how he doesn't want to be Irish because he has no chin and how eating lunch isn't his idea. Um. Seriously. What?!**

**Super special thanks to Black Alnair, icarusLSU, Fangirl17, sjrtts, Mike3207, phhsdj, Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, SeanS, TN Sarah, actressen, LadyDunla, Sabine8195, Renaissancebooklover108, 4 mergana, Tsukune08, Night girl98, Penas e Pergaminhos, Kianix, BlueMoonMaples, Narutoske, squaredplanet, Darkangel665 (Thanks! So glad to hear!), and HorseLoverTW. **

**Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to too many people, none of which are me! **

Not that Morgana thought about falling in love too often, especially in recent times, but she always imagined that when it did happen, there would be an instant attraction. That she would feel some sort of immediate burning passion or a deep fervor for the man she loved.

Merlin fit none of those criteria. He rarely made her heart skip a beat, and when she first met him, Morgana had not given a second thought to his existence. But what Merlin had was an effervescent presence in her heart. Her feelings for him had taken root before she realized their nature. They were steady and persistent and bubbled up when she least expected them to.

She had given him power over her, and he had given her the same power over him. Morgana didn't know if it was love, but she had never felt anything stronger for a man than she did towards Merlin.

But neither of them had forgotten what a difficult mess they were in. Perhaps it was better that they couldn't linger, for neither of them were sure of what to do with their newfound feelings.

"Do you think my brother's done explaining his latest half-brained plan to retake Camelot?" Morgana finally broke the silence after the two sorcerers pulled apart from their kiss.

"Probably." Merlin grinned, his nervousness that she would have a terrible reaction to his actions quickly disappearing. "Though I don't think they're done gossiping about us."

Morgana waved her hand dismissively. "Are they ever? Though…" she paused. "I suppose we ought to convince them you're not bewitched." She raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Merlin sighed and nodded. Arthur would need Morgana's help, and though he wasn't sure the prince would come to completely trust her in time, he needed Arthur to at least trust him. "We'll figure it out," he promised. "Just like we'll figure out how we're going to save Camelot."

It was nice to be finally united in the same cause again, and Merlin was unbelievably grateful that she was on his side. He had always admired her mind, for though she was powerful and beautiful, she was also a thinker, a strategist, someone who understood the rules of combat and war better than he. Magic alone would not be enough to reclaim Camelot.

They didn't talk about what had happened earlier, both completely serious as they discussed their plans. But as they made their way down the stairs to where Arthur and the rest of the knights were staying, Merlin's hand instinctively reached back, lingering there until Morgana's fingers reached forward to intertwine with his.

* * *

Tristan had been waiting for this moment for what felt like decades. He was a patient man by nature, but itched with excitement at the thought of Camelot's downfall. There were times where he wanted to throw away all of his careful planning, for plans took a great deal of time, and just march into Camelot, throw down the gauntlet, and run Arthur through. He bided his time though, for he did not just want the death of the Pendragons, he wanted to see them suffer, wanted them to admit their guilt. He had put all his energy into meticulously training and drilling Odin's army, through rain and heat, until he proclaimed they were ready to meet Camelot's famed knights.

It was no surprise that Odin had taken Camelot. His army had overwhelmed Camelot both in skill and in number. It pleased Odin greatly, and the king had taken to putting up his banners in the throne room. Though Tristan had Camelot now, he was still unhappy. He had arrived at the overthrown kingdom after Arthur had somehow escaped his grasp on the battlefield, only to find that Uther was nowhere to be found in the castle. He had all but won. He had captured the kingdom, divided Arthur's troops, and the king and prince were, to his knowledge, both fatally wounded, but it was not enough.

Tristan was sure Uther was hiding somewhere in the castle. The king was too sick to be moved easily, and Tristan knew Camelot had many secret rooms and tunnels for situations like these. It was only a matter of time before Odin's men found Uther. He would not seek out Arthur, for he knew that the prince would foolishly return to Camelot. He couldn't help but let a sinister smile adorn his lips as he thought that father and son would be reunited at Camelot, only to die together.

In the days following Camelot's takeover, Odin has busied himself with securing the castle perimeters and Agravaine had taken it upon himself to oversee the search for Uther, leaving Tristan with little more to do than wander the halls of the castle. He had too much time on his hands to do nothing, and it started to bother him more than it should have that there were no traces of Ygraine left. All of the intricate tapestries Ygraine stitched that brought a feminine touch to the drab gray halls were gone and no portraits of the Queen hung throughout the castle. Even in Uther's room, while there was a portrait of the king and his son, there was none of his wife. It made Tristan angry that Camelot's Queen was a long forgotten existence. Uther had murdered her and then subsequently tried to put the memory of her behind him.

Tristan would have still been angry had he found traces of Ygraine in Uther's life, for the he felt the king was undeserving of even gazing upon Ygraine's likeness, undeserving of seeking solace in the wife he had sacrificed. He was angrier now though, for he knew that by purging the castle of any reminders of Ygraine, Uther was only trying to rid himself of the reminder of his flaws and his failures, of his guilt.

And his anger, though heavily directed toward Camelot, was also partially directed towards himself. He had failed to protect his sister, hadn't taken notice of her husband's dabbles in magic or obsession with producing an heir. He had been away, on patrol for the vile king, while his sister had been giving birth to the baby that would kill her. She had been alone, an unwilling sacrifice, surrounded by people who wanted nothing more than to please the king, and he had been dutifully carrying out her murderer's orders.

Tristan was going mad thinking about the past. It was partially due to his prolonged stay in the living world but also the persistent knowledge that his family was in shambles and there was nothing he could do to fix it. His only path now was to do the same to Uther's family. Every thought, every waking moment was spent fixated on finding and killing the Pendragons. He had ordered every portrait of the king, every banner of Camelot's golden lion to be burned. Tristan vaguely took note of the concerned looks his brother and Odin would give him when they thought he wasn't looking. He knew his temper was only getting worse with every minute that passed by with Arthur and Uther nowhere to be found, ordering the captured knights to be tortured again and again for information, and in one particular burst of rage, throwing the throne through the window with a spurt of power.

In those rare moments of clarity, it scared Tristan how violent he had become. He had returned to the living with justice in mind, but his thoughts were now all about inflicting the most pain and damage possible to Uther and the people and things he loved. Tristan had lost his family, his home, his honor, his life, and now he had completely lost his mind to his feelings of rage and vengeance. Tristan de Bois had nothing left to lose, no conscience, no dreams of the future, nothing to hold him back anymore. The next time he encountered Arthur, he would not hesitate to strike the prince down.

* * *

When Morgana first started reconstructing Avalon, when the Isle was nothing more than crumbling structures of decades past, she had started by creating a resting place for Morgause, carving her likeness into a large slab of rock to remember her by. Avalon was, after all, Morgause's true home, and out of pure sentimentality, Morgana wanted her sister to be with her as she brought Avalon back to its former glory.

Standing in front of Morgause's tombstone always gave Morgana a sense of strength rather than a feeling of sadness. Morgause, even after her disfiguration, had been incredibly intelligent, powerful, and confident. She was someone who spent no time feeling pity for herself, her situation, and her losses. She needed a moment of silence, of aloneness.

She had left Merlin with the knights, for he wanted to speak with them alone first, so Morgana had gone to find Alator and inform him of their plan. She walked past Arthur's room again after that, only to see them still deep in conversation. With nothing else urgent to do, Morgana took a moment of respite and found herself walking towards Morgause's resting place.

Morgana spilled her heart out to her sister's headstone, knowing Morgause couldn't hear her but needing to say what she felt out loud. And though she was sure that Morgause would have been shocked and disapproving of Morgana's actions as of late, Morgana still felt a weight lifted off her shoulders. She no longer wanted the path Morgause set them on, and she no longer felt as though she owed it to her departed sister to continue down that dark road.

And that was the difference between her sister and her father. Both were undoubtedly forceful leaders, but while Uther acted as though he owned Morgana, Morgause wanted nothing more than to just be Morgana's sister, an equal, and for that Morgana would always love her.

The sound of heavy-footed steps and the rustle of chainmail movement alerted Morgana that she was not alone. From the corner of her eye she saw Merlin, Arthur, and the knights approaching.

She could feel their suspicious eyes staring at her back and she knew what they were thinking. What was the witch doing? Was she communicating with Morgause? What spell had she cast to connect to the other side? Morgana tried to bury the sudden feelings of bitterness and anger towards Arthur and the knights.

Only Merlin, perhaps because he knew better than anyone else that although she had magic, she was also just a human being, felt an urge to shield her from their stares, to tell them they were intruding on a delicate moment.

It was the great divide that neither Merlin nor Morgana was sure they could ever reconcile. The knights could not see beyond the fact that she had magic. And even if they could see her as more than a sorceress, they couldn't see past sorcery as a form of evil. She almost didn't want to try to make them understand. She had every right to be paying her respects to Morgause and she had no obligation to explain her actions to assuage the minds of the ignorant.

She could see that they knights felt uncomfortable without their swords, hands absently reaching for where the hilt would be only to find empty space.

"We should go, my lord." Leon gently said to the prince. "Our people are waiting."

Arthur didn't move. He wouldn't leave until he could speak to Morgana. There was so much about her that he didn't understand. To be honest, he had stopped understanding her, stopped having time to understand her many years ago. He wanted that to change, though he didn't know if it was too late now. He wanted to take a step closer to her without taking a step away from Camelot.

"Arthur, we must go," Gwaine urged. "I know she's your sister but she's a witch. Her sister is a witch. This should be proof enough that her heart is still with Morgause. Who knows what she's plotting now. Don't fall for her tricks, don't trust her just because she saved you once."

Morgana couldn't hear what they were saying but she could softly hear the tone of the knights. It was appalling how they could think magic made her so different. She was like anyone one who had lost someone they loved, talking to a stupid piece of rock and pretending it meant something.

"Wait for me by the shore." Arthur finally spoke. "We will leave soon enough."

"My lord?" Leon questioned as Arthur started to walk toward Morgana.

The prince held up his hand to signal everything was okay. He didn't know how to explain his feelings toward his sister to his knights. His feelings toward magic were slowly starting to shift, and while he wasn't completely convinced magic was evil anymore, he wasn't sure that magic was good either. He was the leader of Camelot though. He could not change his attitude, could not change a longstanding law until he was sure of how he felt. And he wouldn't know how he felt until he talked to Morgana.

"Come on." Merlin clapped Leon and Gwaine on the back. "Let's go. He'll be fine, there's nothing we can do for him here. Let's get ready to return."

And whether it was because of the confidence and knowing in Merlin's voice or the fact that both knights knew there was really nothing they could do for the prince there, they agreed to leave Arthur alone to talk with Morgana.

Arthur paused when he was a few feet away from Morgana, thinking of what he should say to her. After a few moments, he walked to her side and settled down next to her. He groaned softly as his knees hit the ground, his muscles still tense from the healing process, alerting her that he was kneeling by her side. "I'd like to pay my respects." He addressed her first before she had a chance to say anything.

She wasn't sure what she expected him to say, but it wasn't that. Arthur was trying, she would admit that much, and as long as he was willing to try, she would be too.

**A/N: Not too much time left on Avalon for our friends but still so many problems to resolve. **

**I haven't figured out an ending to this story yet, which is a slight problem. Mostly I'm toying with character deaths, some which I think would be appropriate… though depressing? Eep! **

**Make my day and drop me a review? :)**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: I ended up doing a lot of searching about how old Morgana and Arthur are but never really found a definite answer that was well explained. For this fic, I'm just assuming Morgana's younger because it makes the most sense to me that way. **

**Special thanks to Mike3207, sjritts, LadyDunla, zeldor765 (Thanks! Hopefully the knights will start to see reason soon), guest (if only Merlin and Arthur wouldn't be sad!), Renaissancebooklover108, Penas e Pergaminhos, Kianix, Narutoske, TN Sarah, phhsdj (Thank you!), Mergana Pendragon (x4, thanks!), BlueMoonMaples, and 4mergana.**

**Disclaimer: Doubtful that BBC will ever let me have Merlin!**

For men like Leon and Gwaine, it was difficult being on the Isle of Avalon. They were men who took great pride in their physical strength and skill with weaponry, and Avalon was a place where such prowess was useless. They were on the defensive in this strange new land and thus very visibly anxious and weary from being on edge all the time.

They did not understand Morgana, or kelpies, or Avalon. They did not understand magic, for it was not their job to. They were men of action, and what they understood was that Morgana had been the single greatest threat to Camelot for a great deal of time. Time and time again she had wreaked destruction and pain on the kingdom they loved. It was far too easy to hate Morgana and much harder to understand that she had changed.

But when Morgana introduced them as Camelot's bravest and noblest knights, the distinct feeling of shame briefly flooded them. They were men with good hearts, gentlemen in every sense of the word (even despite Gwaine's occasional crude antics), and they had done nothing to deserve such kind words from her. She had rescued and saved their prince, offered them a place to rest, sustenance for their empty stomachs, and all they gave in return were suspicious looks and curt responses.

When they arrived by the eastern shore of Avalon they saw Gwen waiting for them, but were surprised to find four small boats there also. A small cluster of men were busy loading parcels onto the boats but stopped when they saw Merlin and the knights approaching.

"Sir knights, Lord Merlin," one of the men, Iseldir, greeted them.

Merlin waved at the man, and Leon and Gwaine tentatively followed his lead.

"Are those for us?" Merlin asked, surprised by the act of generosity.

"Yes, Emr— Ah. Merlin. We have packed smoked meats and rice in those bags." Iseldir gestured to the boat furthest to the right. "Medical supplies are here." He pointed to one of the boats in the middle. "And here we have five dozen of the finest chainmail you will find in the Five Kingdoms." He pointed to the boat on the far left. "Mere knives and spears will not be able to pierce through this armor. Courtesy of the dwarves."

Merlin shook Iseldir's hand. "It's too much."

"It is the least we could do for you." Iseldir seriously replied. "We are almost done here. Bain is gathering some kingsfoil for you to bring back and the dwarves are finishing the last few chainmail sleeves."

"Many thanks. I'll go check on the chainmail." Merlin volunteered though no one had asked. "Really, I can't allow you to do all the work for us." He had something he needed to do without the knights being near and he seized the opportunity to break away. Before Gwaine or Leon had a chance to say anything, Merlin strode off inland again, leaving the two knights uncomfortably alone with a group of strangers and the woman who broke their prince's heart.

"Well Sir Leon, you are much recovered from the last time we met." Iseldir was not one for awkward silences.

And then it hit Leon why the man had looked so familiar. "You're one of the druids who saved me. You're the man who gave me water from the cup of life!"

Iseldir nodded confirmation of Leon's outburst as he picked up another package and loaded it into the boat. "Yes, Iseldir is my name."

A sense of overwhelming gratitude coupled with that same sense of shame as before started to crawl up Leon's spine again. "Please." Leon stepped forward, grabbing a large sack and heaving it toward the boats. "Let me help you with that."

* * *

Arthur knew something was different about Morgana when she returned. She was more demure and much less outspoken. He should have asked her about it, asked her about what happened during the time she was gone, but she never wanted to talk about it and he never pushed her to. To be honest, Arthur hadn't had time for Morgana. He was too busy carrying out his duties as the crown prince, and his responsibilities had only increased during the time Morgana was away. Not to mention, he had been completely love struck at the time, spending his sparse free time thinking about Gwen and trying to think of ways to coincidentally cross paths with her.

It was also nice to finally see Morgana and Uther getting along with no arguments. She had stopped fighting the king at every turn, which meant Arthur no longer had to persuade his father to curb his anger or play peacekeeper between the two. It also meant he didn't have to think about the uncomfortable topics Morgana would oppose him on, for many times he felt he agreed with Morgana but could not say anything against his father.

Starting the conversation seemed like the most awkward. Nothing ever seemed to be the right thing to say, and too many things would have been the wrong thing. Neither of them wanted the conversation to dissolve into argument, though neither of them trusted themselves enough to keep their emotions in check.

Arthur truly meant to pay his respects to Morgause. He had once admired her for her strength and her honor, but then quickly changed his feelings once she had become an enemy of Camelot. Now that he knew the truth in her words, the truth of his mother's death, he was not sure how he felt about Morgause.

"Thank you for looking after Morgana." Arthur bent his head reverently. "I—"

"Don't." Morgana cut Arthur off, rising to her feet and motioning for him to walk with her. "Let's talk somewhere else."

Wordlessly he followed her. He would be patient with her, put up with her prickliness. They stopped by the edge of the Isle on the western shore and walked up the stairs to a small watchtower. When they reached the top and were back in the open air, she leaned forward, looking out toward the water and waiting for Arthur to say something.

There were many questions he wanted to ask her, but it suddenly occurred to Arthur that only one really mattered at the moment. "Are you with me or against me Morgana?" It was a blunt question but the answer would clear up so much for him.

Morgana scoffed at the ocean. "Neither. You should know that by now." She paused. "But I don't like seeing Odin and Agravaine ruling Camelot… so perhaps for the time being you can consider me on your side."

"So you're doing this for Camelot?" He didn't know why she would suddenly want to save Camelot after trying to destroy it.

"I'm doing this for a friend."

Arthur softened at that, thinking she meant him. "Thank you," he responded sincerely.

"It's not you, Arthur." She bit back a laugh but rolled her eyes.

"Oh. Well, who is it?" Arthur tried to think of who else she had ever cared for in Camelot.

"Merlin."

"Oh. Well, wait. Merlin?!" Arthur's voice almost cracked at the absurdity.

"Yes, Merlin." Morgana did not care to elaborate. "You ought to thank him. If he didn't love you and Camelot so much I doubt we'd be here."

It occurred to him then that perhaps Merlin wasn't enchanted, though Arthur wondered what sort of relationship the two had. _Leave it to Merlin to get through to Morgana_, he thought. His manservant was always full of surprises but he wondered when the two had gotten that close.

He wanted to probe into her relationship with Merlin, but more importantly, he wanted to know where he stood with her. "So if it weren't for Merlin you would not have saved me at Kemeray? You wouldn't be helping me now?"

"Look," she sighed. "I don't know what to say you. I've lost my sister. I don't want to lose my brother too. Maybe I wouldn't have saved you without Merlin's insistence, but I'm glad I did." She was honest with him, for she really wasn't sure that she would have begged the Sidhe for their help or risked the trust of the people of Avalon just to protect Arthur had it not been for Merlin. But she couldn't deny that she was relieved that the prince was alive.

Tentatively, Arthur slung an arm around Morgana's shoulder, hoping she wouldn't fling him away. "I'm glad you did too."

She didn't say anything, didn't react to his touch or his words.

"How did we become like this?" He would have given anything to have Morgana lean into him or elbow him playfully as she did in the past. They were so close to each other now yet the distance between them was as far as ever.

"It's quite simple," she quipped. "I have magic and you're the crown prince of a kingdom where having magic is punishable by death." She knew there were plenty of other reasons, but that was the root of the problem.

He refused to take that as an answer. "Why didn't you tell me you had magic when you first found out? I would have protected you. There are always exceptions to the rule."

"You hated magic back then. Uther poisoned your mind against the Old Religion."

"It's not your fault that you have magic though. It's not like you willingly practiced it. I would not have blamed you for something you had no control over."

"You say that now but how many people have been executed under the suspicion of magic? How many villagers who clearly were not conjurers were murdered because of Uther's paranoia? Neither innocence nor intent carry any meaning for our father."

"He does what he thinks is best. His laws against magic have kept Camelot safe." Arthur was trying to convince himself as much as he was Morgana.

"This is exactly what I mean." She tore herself away from Arthur at that. "Still you defend him! You cannot admit that he is wrong, cannot do anything that would risk disappointing him." Her voice was bordering shrillness.

"HE IS MY FATHER." He didn't know what she expected from him.

She made a sound, something between a chuckle and a snort. "And you are Camelot's future. Do you rule in the best interests of your people or in your father's interest?"

"The people of Camelot fear magic." Arthur's own views toward magic seemed to be softening, but he couldn't deny that many of his people feared the unknown nature of sorcery.

"The people of Camelot fear Uther." Morgana's voice was severe. "How can you not see that? I struggle to find what it is that Merlin sees in you sometimes."

"You're not the only one," Arthur retorted. "You decided the best way to change things in Camelot was to invade it with Cenred's army?"

"You who have never felt alone, never felt betrayal would not understand."

"Oh give it a rest Morgana. Betrayal? I have been betrayed by those closest to me. First you, now Agravaine."

"And yet you have the support of your people and your knights during your times of need. You never face any crisis alone."

"You could have turned to me! Or Gaius or Merlin. You didn't have to be alone. You chose to be."

"Do you honestly believe that?" Morgana spat the question hatefully. "You think I didn't turn to Gaius? You think he didn't know I had magic? It was easier for him to pretend I was suffering from insomnia than to acknowledge the fact that I was a sorceress. And Merlin? He knew, but what could he do?"

Arthur paled at that, wondering how his manservant could have kept that knowledge a secret from him. "Merlin knew you had magic? All this time? Why when I see him—"

"Don't bother finishing that sentence. You'll say nothing to Merlin. He knew. And he was the only bit of comfort I had at Camelot."

Arthur tempered his surprise and indignation at the fact that Merlin had known about Morgana's magic all this time. "So what changed?"

"You remember the sleeping spell and the indestructible knights that came to Camelot? Morgause made me the source of that spell. I didn't know she had done it, Merlin was the only one that figured it out."

"That was when you disappeared. Why would you leave with Morgause if you knew what she had done?"

"I didn't know what she had done then."

"But you just said that Merlin figured it out."

"Yes and how do you suppose he broke the spell after he realized it was bound to me?"

Arthur paused to think. "I don't know, was there some potion in Gaius' chambers that offset it?"

"To kill a spell one must kill the vessel of the spell."

The prince frowned. "But that means—" He paused again. "No, but it's Merlin, and you're alive, so—"

Morgana sighed, seeing that she would have to spell this out. "Merlin poisoned me and Morgause saved me."

"I can't believe that. Merlin would never poison anyone. And you just said that you're only helping me because he convinced you to." This was Merlin they were talking about. The Merlin who could barely wield a sword without hurting himself. The Merlin who couldn't kill even the smallest kitchen rat.

"He did it for you, for Camelot." Morgana so wanted to tell Arthur that Merlin was not the simple serving boy the prince believed he was, but it was not her secret to reveal so she bit her tongue.

"You seem strangely calm about this." She was so unpredictable, up in arms over Uther's laws but oddly composed over being poisoned by a friend, that Arthur didn't know how to react. But even now, though her feelings were volatile, she did not seem dangerous or threatening, which only made Arthur even more curious as to what or who had changed her.

She shrugged. "If I were him, I would have done the same. I suppose I've also had years to come to accept this." Morgana would not let him know about the months and months of anger and rage she had felt over Merlin's actions. "You know, Merlin's done a lot more for you than you know." She wasn't sure why she felt the need to defend Merlin actions.

Arthur nodded. Merlin was much more resourceful and reliable than he ever admitted out loud. "I had a feeling as much. If he had any skill with a blade I would have knighted him long ago." Perhaps Merlin would be the bond that would reconnect them. "Will we ever see eye to eye? Surely you cannot hate Uther. He's your father too."

Those were the wrong words to say to Morgana and there was no calming her down from this topic. "Uther is merely the snake of a man that broke my family apart. He pretends he is noble when he sends his friends into battle and steals their wives. How is this okay with you? That Uther had a child with another woman? He is a self-serving hypocrite among many other things."

"He was lonely. My mother was gone." Arthur didn't know why he was still defending his father. The mention of his mother awoke a deep ache in his heart and he tried not to think of the knowledge Annis imparted on him.

She wanted to scream at him. She had indeed inherited the great Pendragon temper, and she wanted to shake him and shout that that was the point exactly. That Uther was nothing but a selfish tyrant that did whatever he wanted. That his mother was dead because Uther had killed her. That Uther was not worth defending because he had ruined too many things to fix.

But she didn't. There had been times where she had wished to break Arthur's spirit and his bones, but even then, she had never wished to break his heart. Losing a mother was hard enough, but the knowledge that Uther was the cause of his mother's death was too cruel. "So he took what he wanted because he's king. Betrayed his best friend because he was lonely. Is that the sort of king Camelot deserves? Is that the sort of king you wish to be?"

"I am not Uther."

"You might as well be. You are doing nothing but standing in Uther's shadow."

"It's not that easy. I've made changes to Camelot, but lifting the ban on magic is too much."

Morgana scoffed. "You've changed the things that are easy to change. So commoners can become knights. It was only a matter of time before you realized that noble blood does not make a noble heart."

"I cannot just change the laws against magic. It just—"

"Magic should have never been outlawed in the first place! Oh, if only you knew the truth Arthur Pendragon. You would—"

"I know the truth," he stonily replied. "I know why the Great Purge happened."

"You know the lies that Uther told you." She was working herself into a frenzy again.

"No. Listen to me Morgana. I know everything."

The realization that Arthur honestly knew something more about the Great Purge seemed to become apparent to Morgana. Her voice was dangerously low. "What do you know?"

"I know about my mother," his words came out unevenly. "I know he used magic to conceive me. That the price of my life was hers," he guiltily admitted.

This set Morgana off yet again. "So how can you still defend him when you know the truth? How long have you known this?"

"My father did what he did out of love."

The truth in his words seemed to deflate some of Morgana's anger. It was not an excuse for his actions, but Morgana did believe that Uther had not intended to kill the woman he loved.

She didn't respond, so Arthur continued. "Annis told me, just a day ago." His eyes begged her to understand. "I thought I'd hate him, that I'd want to hurt him for what he did. A few years ago I believe I would have killed him in rage. But he's old and sick, Morgana, and he's my father. He's bedridden and can barely talk and barely walk. I don't have any anger left in me, only regret and sorrow." There was a part of Arthur that would never be able to forgive Uther, but he knew how much his father had loved his mother. Her death was a mistake, a horrible act of rashness and desperation with even more disastrous consequences, but it seemed like Uther had suffered enough. Arthur had had enough of fighting hate and anger with more hate and anger. He couldn't change the past, and just like he wasn't going to spend a lifetime hating Morgana for her crimes, he wasn't going to fixate himself on hating his father for something that had already been done. "He was wrong. What he did was terrible and I do not forgive him for what he has done, but you cannot ignore the fact that if magic were banned, he would have never been able to misuse it."

Morgana opened her mouth, about to protest his last statement, but Arthur continued before she could speak.

"It's still his fault. It's not because of magic that my mother died, it's because of Uther. I get that, Morgana. But do you see how I can't just lift the ban on magic? There are people who would just use magic for evil, use it to harm others or circumvent our laws. And perhaps worse, there are good people who would use magic, not for malicious reasons, but don't understand the repercussions of magic." He was thinking of his father. "How many people would turn to magic as a cure to all their problems without realizing that there is a price to pay?" He had given much thought to the subject after learning the truth from Annis.

"You're conveniently forgetting to mention that there are people who would use magic for good. People who understand magic and how it should be used." She quietly pointed out this fact.

"I see that. I see all the destruction that has been caused by the Great Purge. I've seen magic used for good and I've seen magic used for evil. Things have changed Morgana, even though you don't want to admit it. Those who have magic are not persecuted, but they just cannot be allowed to practice magic without other laws that will keep magic in check. It's too dangerous, too uncontrollable."

"It's not magic that's the problem. It's the people who use magic. Those who understand it can use magic to better the kingdom in ways you can't imagine."

"And who truly understands magic? The woman that Father turned to, was she not a High Priestess? Who else could have understood magic better? And yet look what happened. I cannot allow magic to run free in my kingdom if I cannot protect my people from the potential consequences of using magic."

As easy as it was to hate Uther, it was hard to hate Arthur. She had resented him and been angered by what she thought was Uther's puppeteering of him, but she had also grown up with him and seen the good in him. As many times as she had been frustrated that he didn't stand up to Uther, there were many times when she had been immensely proud of his actions and decisions. Even Morgause had not wanted to fight Arthur. It was only when they realized that Uther's influence over the prince was too strong that it became inevitable that Arthur too would be their enemy. He had changed a great deal since then, as did she.

Morgana didn't want to admit it, but she thought perhaps he was the Once and Future King that Merlin believed in. Like Merlin, he had a great destiny, a destiny to do good. Even now, when he was being so pigheaded about magic, he had a point. They couldn't just lift the ban over magic overnight. There would have to be new laws and careful planning for such a large change to take place. The things he was saying made sense. They were the well-considered, deliberate thoughts of a prince who wanted only the best for his people. She knew that allowing people to practice magic would be a good thing, but she also acknowledged that it would take a great deal of time and planning to make sure that people weren't abusing magic or afraid of it.

She silently admired Arthur for being able to so coolly analyze the situation. She had only thought of the unfairness of the laws to her people, the suffering and persecution under King Uther, but he was thinking of his entire kingdom, those with magic and those without. He who had no magic, no special powers, was trying, though slowly, to make the world a better place. He was looking towards the future when she was still trying to pull herself out of the past.

It was easier to blame Arthur sometimes than to admit that his heart was purer and kinder than hers. The fates had predetermined her to be a force of evil, and she could often feel those dark feelings rumbling within her. When she thought of that, the feelings of resentment toward Arthur came back again. How was she supposed to fight destiny? How was she supposed to carve out her own path when the fates were always looming above her? Arthur was predestined to be the golden child of Camelot, and Merlin the great sorcerer by his side.

Arthur placed his hand over hers, concerned that she hadn't answered him. "Morgana?"

But it wasn't that she was too caught up in her thoughts to respond. From a distance, Morgana had seen a large, dark figure approaching through the skies. It was now close enough for Morgana to clearly identify the creature. She knew she didn't have to be afraid. After all, Merlin was still here, and he had already told her he would have to call on the dragon for help, but her natural reaction was to freeze in fear and anger.

She heard his voice in her head, that deep, sly rumble of a voice. "Hello, Morgana." She hated his voice. He always seemed to talk as if he knew something more than she did, like he knew an entertaining secret about her that she would never be privy to.

But then she heard another voice, like the clear sound of chiming glass bells in her head. "Moe—Mor…Morgana!" The speaker had a great deal of trouble pronouncing Morgana's name. The sorceress squinted at the sky, trying to figure out where that second voice had come from. There was nothing in the air except for the hulking figure of the Great Dragon, but then she noticed that gliding along the underside of his belly was a small white dragon, no larger than one of the calves of Kilgharrah's hind legs.

"Aithusa?" She spoke out loud, prompting Arthur to frown in incomprehension.

Only the sound of gleeful chirping in her mind confirmed that this was indeed the baby dragon Merlin had spoken of.

**A/N: So the round table crew is starting to see that magic isn't evil, but there's still a ways to go and Morgana definitely isn't going to stand down on her views. And what's Merlin up to and is it high time he reveals his magic to Arthur?**

**Thank you guys so much for reading! Let me know what you think! **


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